The Lady Fortune's ODSTs
by PAITKEN15
Summary: The chronicles of a squad of ODSTs from the UNSC Lady Fortune. They're lucky sons of guns, but what do they expect when they serve on a ship with THAT name?
1. 01 Meet the Heroes

**0800 Hours, November 5, 2545 (Military Calendar) \**

**Karn, Epsilon Galilei System**

**UNSC Lady Fortune**

**ODST Spec. Ops, Phillip Aitken**

My squad and I sat in the briefing room. Most of us were in full armor, sans helmets. Our CO was about to go over what our job was this time. There were seven troopers: me, Diamond, Behm, Miller, Jacobs, Hoffman, and Pillsbury.

I was our vehicle and Covie equipment specialist, Diamond was our meat shield, Behm was explosives, Miller was our tech, Jacobs was communications, Hoffman was our medic, and Pillsbury was supposedly our sharpshooter. We just got him after our previous sniper died on our last mission; the irony of McGraw getting sniped himself was not lost on us. Pillsbury was straight out of training, greener than grass. This was his first mission. Well, everyone had to start somewhere.

"So what's the plan, Cap?" I asked.

"The plan is the same as ever, Aitken. We drop in the HEVs and do what we do best." Our captain, a tough but fair vet named Shepard, pointed to a spot on a map of the planet below us. "We _should_ land somewhere around here. Tyche."

"Yes, sir." Tyche was the _Lady_'s onboard AI. She took the form of a young woman from ancient Greece, with long hair and robes. Her English had a Mediterranean accent. I highly doubted her selection for this ship was a coincidence; Tyche was also the name of the Greek goddess of luck, a daughter of Aphrodite and Hermes. Her Roman counterpart was named Fortuna. The map zoomed in.

"Sergeant McNally." Captain Shepard was handing the floor over to our sergeant, a disgruntled, no-nonsense Irishman with light brown skin named McNally.

"This is the area we're supposed to make landfall. We will drop, head to this canyon, and await further orders. We're expecting heavy Covenant activity, and we will almost certainly need to fight our way through. Any questions?"

Pillsbury raised his hand. "What exactly is it we do best, sir?"

Everyone but Pillsbury and McNally laughed. I thought I even caught Tyche smile. "Our job, rookie," Behm said, leaning over his left shoulder, "is giving the Covies a hard time. We go in, blow some shit up, litter the ground with corpses, try to steal some info, and make it back on board the _Lady_ in time to do it again on another planet."

"Oh." Pillsbury looked a bit unnerved. He was only about twenty-two, I figured, and a bit short compared to me and all the other ODSTs I knew.

I gave him a reassuring pat on the back because I was sitting next to him. "Relax, rook. Behm makes it sound a lot worse than it is."

McNally grunted and put on his helmet. "You'll learn, dough boy." He walked out of the room.

"Okay, anyone else?" Captain Shepard looked around, and nodded. "Dismissed. Go pick up your kit and get in your coffins." As we left with our helmets in hand, our captain touched me on the shoulder. "Aitken, wait just a second. Tyche, close the door."

Shepard knew everyone else would wait for me when they realized I didn't come out right away and obviously didn't want anyone to hear. "Something tells me this is about Pillsbury."

"Yes, it is. I want you to keep an eye on him out there. I heard he showed promise, but he's still a young rookie out to prove himself. And soldiers like that tend to get killed."

"Okay, Cap. You got it."

"Good man. Oh, and please don't go to the bridge. Commander Brown will kick you out if you go up there just to see Tori."

"Aw, come on, sir, you know I'll behave." I smiled and walked out the door. Just as I thought, everyone had waited.

Diamond said, "What'd Captain Shepard want?"

"He said he called gunner if they sent us a Warthog later."

"Bull."

I laughed. "Yeah, you're right. Can't really talk about it. Top secret."

Everyone made various gestures of dismissal, and we walked to the armory to get our stuff. This mission? It would be a cakewalk.


	2. 02 Gearing Up

**0830 Hours, November 5, 2545 (Military Calendar) \**

**Karn, Epsilon Galilei System**

**UNSC Lady Fortune**

**ODST Spec. Ops, Phillip Aitken**

Doelp, the quartermaster, was waiting for us at the armory. He handed Behm a bunch of grenades, some trip mines, his rocket launcher, and his magnum. Behm called his magnum "Panama Red," because one time he got shot in the hand by a Brute's spiker and ended up getting most of the blood on the gun. It hadn't washed out in three years. I never knew where he got the "Panama" part from, though.

Pillsbury was just in front of me, and I was in the back of the line. We waited patiently for our kit. I crossed my fingers in the queue. Hopefully my new toy requisition had been approved. Being vehicle specialist, I loved having them on the ground. This would be my first time in one of these things, though.

Pillsbury got an SRS 99C sniper rifle. I'd used one a few times, and I could appreciate the appeal, but it wasn't for me. As I stepped up to Doelp, I held a hand out to Pillsbury. "Hey, Pillsbury, wait up a sec."

To my surprise, he obliged, even if he looked puzzled. Well, I did technically outrank him, being a Private First Grade, so maybe he thought it was an order. Doelp got my trusty M90 and "Good Ol' Boy," my battered MA5B Assault Rifle. "Hey, Doelp, what's the status on the toy I asked for?"

Doelp cracked a tiny smile. "I have a feeling you'll be very pleased, Aitken."

"That's what I like to hear, Doelp." I returned the smile and patted his shoulder in a friendly way before moving down the hallway once more. Pillsbury followed, trying to keep up. It was a difficult feat, being that his rifle was longer than he was tall.

"You got that, rookie?" I thought I'd ask to be polite, but Pillsbury took it a bit more personally than I thought he would.

"I can carry my own gun, Aitken."

"Alright, sorry. I didn't mean it like that, I was genuinely offering." I had Good Ol' Boy slung across my back and carried my boomstick in my right hand, my helmet in my left. "Where ya from, rook?"

"Reach. In the Epsilon Eridani system."

"Oh, yeah! That one with all the bases, right? I'm from New Jersey, back on Earth. Right across from Philadelphia. I always wanted to be up here, in space."

"That's cool." Pillsbury was bored, that much was clear, but at least he was trying to be polite.

We walked mostly in silence the rest of the way, to where we'd get in our HEVs. I decided to try again. "You ever been in a pod, Pillsbury?"

"Simulators, yeah."

"Oh. Well, forget almost everything you think you know about the HEVs from the sims." He tried to smile, testing if I was joking, but when I remained serious, he sobered. "You'll be in number five. That was McGraw's."

He put on his helmet and went inside the staging room, looking a bit uncomfortable. Someone had to tell him. I wish I'd known the simulators were nothing like the real thing on my first drop. "A rookie? You going soft on me, Desperado?" A beautiful voice referred to me by my callsign. I turned around to see the beautiful face of the girl to whom it belonged.

"Orders are orders, Angel," I remarked, smirking and walking over to hug Tori. She returned the embrace, looking around before she gave me a peck on the cheek, having to stand on her toes because I was taller and in my armor.

Tori Fero was a blonde, green-eyed Philly girl who found her way onto the _Lady Fortune_ as a comms officer. We'd actually known each other before; our dads were pretty tight because they went to high school together. I always thought she had a thing for me, always masking it behind glares and cold shoulders. Well, when I finally got aboard the _Lady_ six years ago, a rookie right out of training myself, I was surprised to find her on the bridge.

I expected her to pretend she didn't know me, but I can only imagine the look on my face when she came to my quarters that night and kissed me, spilling her guts about how she always really did love me. Well, to be honest, I didn't really give it a second thought and our relationship started, just like that. Commander Brown, the _Lady's_ god (his term, not mine), didn't mind as long as we followed the PDA regs.

"Do you have your charm?"

I thumped my chest. "I always do." About four years ago Tori had carved a good luck charm for me while the _Lady_ was being refitted with some improvements back home on Earth. She made me promise to always wear it.

"Good. Be careful out there, Desperado." We kissed again, and she left me to put my helmet on and follow Pillsbury.

Everyone else was waiting. I noticed I wasn't the only one who was running late. "Where's Cap?"

Miller shrugged. "You got us. He said he'd be back soon, though."

"Yeah, and 'soon' has become fifteen minutes," Jacobs said as he checked over his Battle Rifle for what I guessed was the nineteenth time.

Right on cue, Captain Shepard waltzed right through the door. "Alright, men. Strap in. We're jumping feet first straight into Hell."


	3. 03 Line of Duty

**0850 Hours, November 5, 2545 (Military Calendar) \**

**Karn, Epsilon Galilei System**

**UNSC Lady Fortune**

**ODST Spec. Ops, Louis Diamond**

Captain Shepard gave the order, so we all racked our weapons and climbed into our coffins. That's what I called 'em, anyway; they were as good as one if something went wrong.

Aitken's voice came over the channel. "This is how we do it, rook."

Pillsbury replied, "Oh, man… this _is_ different from the simulators… what the hell does this do?"

I decided to interject. When did Aitken become so familiar with the rookie? "Whatever it is, you probably shouldn't touch it, Pillsbury."

Captain Shepard got on the line. "Loathe though I am to admit it, Diamond's got a point. Pillsbury, just keep your hands where they are now and you'll be fine. By the way, your callsign is Crackshot."

"Crackshot?" I asked. "Meh. I gues it's got a ring to it. See if you can live up to the name, newbie."

"Are we gonna drop or what, Cap?" Behm was becoming impatient.

"Three… two… ONE!" Captain Shepard counted down.

I felt my HEV fall, pulled by Karn's gravity. I knew we hit the atmosphere because I started baking in my armor. Nothing like a little entry heat. If only the UNSC would put a bit more research into better heat-proofing for these things. I felt myself slow down – the drag chutes had deployed.

"God _dammit!_ BANSHEES!"

Son of a – how did the Covies know we were here? I could hear the signature whine of their engines, and prayed to whatever there was out there that they wouldn't fire.

No such luck. They _did _fire, and I heard Aitken on the com. "Cap, I see plasma bolts in front of me, they're firing on my pod. I don't think I'm gonna make it."

"Desperado, you WILL survive, just relax."

"Captain Shepard," Pillsbury said, "I just felt something like a personal earthquake inside this thing, I'm going down fast – "

And his voice cut out.

"Desperado! Crackshot! Answer me, dammit!"

I felt the rocking jolt that signaled landing. The front panel burst out away from me, so I grabbed my BR and MA5 and got out. I stretched and flexed the stiffness out of my joints, making sure I was in fighting form. My squadmates did the same.

We all gathered around Captain Shepard, who was standing a few meters away. Hoffman put a hand on our CO's shoulder. "Captain, these things happen. I've had patients die on me plenty of – "

"Don't compare that to what just happened. We've served with Aitken for six years. It doesn't feel like six with all the cryosleep, but it is. Jesus, he was only twenty-six biologically. And how old is Pillsbury? Twenty? Nineteen? Which one of you wants to tell Tori the man she loves is dead? I sure as hell don't. Aitken was a good soldier, and a good friend. This is nowhere near the same thing, Hoffman."

"You're… you're right, Captain. I just couldn't think of anything else to say."

"Let's have some silence for the boys."

Everyone bowed their heads, weapons lowered. After about forty seconds, Sergeant McNally barked onto the channel.

"Alright, ladies, come on. We still have a job to do."

I couldn't tell what everyone else was thinking. All I knew was that I felt sad, angry, and even a little… empty, I guess. I liked Aitken. Cap was right; he was a good soldier and friend. And Pillsbury _was_ young.

"Hey," Jacobs said, stopping in his tracks, "I think I'm picking up Pelican readings…"

We all turned around, and lo and behold, Jacobs was telling the truth. Three Pelicans were coming our way. They each had a Warthog under its belly, and… no way. He didn't.

"Captain Shepard, this is Eros Six-Nine, Seven-Oh, and Seven-One dropping off some goodies. Enjoy."

They dropped their cargo a few feet in front of us. Cries of excitement and triumph rang over the com channel. This was awesome.

Aitken had requisitioned _three_ Gauss Warthogs for us. Those things were destructive masterpieces, miniature MAC Cannons. He always said he wanted one.

"Okay, here's how we're going to divide." Shepard pointed as he called names and indicated Warthogs. "Hoffman, drive that one, Miller, you're Hoffman's turret, Behm, passenger. McNally, drive that one, with Jacobs on turret. Diamond, you'll drive that last one. I'm your gunner."

I really wanted to get on the turret, but orders were orders. I got in the driver's seat and waited for Captain Shepard. Once he was in, I gunned the engine and led everyone else since Cap was with me.

Miller said, "Man, I wish Aitken was here for this."

"Rest in peace, Desperado." I had nothing else to say. Everyone else followed up with "Amen."

We were going to find those Covie assholes who killed Aitken and Pillsbury, and we were gonna make them pay.


	4. 04 Seperation Anxiety

**0925 Hours, November 5, 2545 (Military Calendar) \**

**Karn, Epsilon Galilei System**

**UNKNOWN POINT ON KARN**

**ODST Spec. Ops, Phillip Aitken**

My head hurt. So did every other part of my body. I didn't know what happened for about a minute. Then I remembered.

"_Fricking_ Covenant…" I opened up my com. "Cap, this is Desperado." I got only static. "This is Desperado, does anyone read me? Someone, anyone."

I paused. When it became clear I wouldn't be getting a response, I swore and kicked my HEV's panel. It gave way and let me into the air and desert sun. Most of Karn was a rocky desert, in fact. The only value it had was being a bit too close for comfort to the Inner Colonies. Of course, the Covies had already advanced into the Inner Colonies, but it couldn't hurt for us to destroy an outpost like this. There were also some old UNSC bases, but intel said they'd all been abandoned.

I climbed out, checking my surroundings with Good Ol' Boy brought to bear and ready to fire. To my surprise, another HEV was in the ground near mine. I heard Pillsbury go down right before I hit, so it was probably his. I double-timed it to Pillsbury's pod and prayed he was alive. I got some leverage and gave a giant heave to pry open his panel. It came off, but not without a fight. Pillsbury's body was limp. This wasn't looking good.

I got Pillsbury out of the HEV and set him on the ground. I took off his gauntlet and checked for a pulse. His heart was beating. He was still alive; thank God. The next order of business was to see if he was breathing. I removed his helmet and listened. It was shallow, but at least it was there. Then I heard what I thought sounded like snoring…

Of course. That was Pillsbury. He must have gone unconscious when he made planetfall, but now the rookie was sleeping like a baby. I pinched his nose. Pillsbury started to cough, and he woke up. "The hell – "

Pillsbury sat up and took a look around. He saw his empty gauntlet and helmet on the ground and scrambled to collect them. After his helmet was back on, he said, "Where are we?"

I replied, "On Karn, Rook. Our pods got shot down by Banshees."

"What?! How did we survive?!"

"Luck," I said, simply. I went over to his pod and got his SRS for him. He accepted it gratefully and inspected it.

"Luck? You're joking, right?"

"Nope."

"Where's everyone else?"

I shrugged, walking in the direction I thought we'd find the canyon. "We obviously got separated, and they probably think we're dead."

"Where are we going?" Pillsbury sounded hesitant, but he followed anyway.

"Orders are orders, Crackshot, and I'm a good soldier. We're heading for the canyon."

"Oh. Aitken – "

"No. No names. I'm Desperado, you're Crackshot or Rookie. We use callsigns for security purposes."

"Sorry. But what makes you think we survived _just_ because we got lucky?"

"We're the _Lady Fortune_'s ODSTs. What do you expect? And I'm a bit luckier than most, in fact."

"Why?"

"A charm my girlfriend gave me. She's a comms officer on the _Lady_." I felt my chest, just to make sure the charm was still there.

"Doesn't Commander Brown – "

I shook my head. "Not as long as we follow the regulations. How 'bout you, Crackshot? Do you have a girl back on Reach who's going to wait for you? Because I was born twenty-nine years ago, but my body's only twenty-six. Cryosleep stops your aging, and you could still look twenty-five by the end of the war when she's thirty-four and not quite as pretty as you left her."

"Well… there was someone… but she didn't want me to join the Marines, she wanted me to stay, and have a life with her."

I turned my head slightly so I could look at him while still being able to see what was in front of me. "What, you mean, like, she wanted to marry you?"

Pillsbury nodded. "I told her that the Covenant could come any day and glass Reach, and that I wanted to prevent that from happening. You're from Earth, so you don't really understand, but being around all those bases your whole life, watching the ships go up by the hundreds… knowing they're fighting to keep you safe, that makes you want to do something."

"And that's why you joined the UNSC."

"Yeah. But she didn't want to hear it. She said that if I stayed with her, then… well, it gets a bit personal after that, but, needless to say, it never happened."

I patted his back. "Crackshot, you're not half bad. Hell, I like you. Tell you what, after the war my cousin might be as old as you will be, you can take her."

"Um, no thanks, Desperado. And what about your girl? Have you two ever…" Pillsbury made some gestures with his hands, trying to think of a term for it. Giving up, he simply said, "You know."

I laughed. "Us? Well, don't tell anybody, but…" I paused. "Once. We were all on shore leave while the _Lady_ was being outfitted with a few upgrades, and that night… that's when she gave me my charm. I've never been anywhere without it."

"She must mean a lot to you."

"Yeah. Yeah, she does – " I stopped moving, holding up a hand so Pillsbury would do the same. "Be quiet and go prone."

We both got down on our stomachs. Pillsbury sighted his rifle. "Covies?" he whispered.

To be honest, I didn't know. I just felt like there was something… wrong. I couldn't put my finger on it. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a rocky outcropping that seemed like it looked down into a valley. I tapped Pillsbury's shoulder and moved my head to indicate the structure. We stayed low on our way there. I used hand gestures to indicate he should have his rifle ready. Pillsbury shifted his grip. We peeked over the edge, looking down at the bottom of the hill.

"Dammit!" I was glad I had turned off my helmet's speakers; the Covenant army below couldn't hear me.

"Jesus," said Pillsbury in a hushed tone, "how many do you think are down there?"

"At least a hundred fifty." I saw no fewer than twenty-five Elites with three grunts each, twenty Brutes, and thirty Jackals. Even worse, they had _four_ Hunters. "More likely than not they have even more troops in that cave." I indicated where I was talking about.

"I don't have enough ammo for all of them," Pillsbury told me unnecessarily.

"We don't have enough ammo for them _combined_, Crackshot."

"Then what are we gonna do?"

I snorted. "Well, our comms are either fried or out of range of anyone else, most of our HUD systems are down, and a giant shadow just fell over us."

It was an Elite. Fantastic. I had no choice but to raise my M90. The creature emitted a battle cry which turned into a shriek of pain as I blew its head off.

Pillsbury's voice rang out inside my helmet. "**OH SHIT DESPERADO WHY THE HELL'DJA GO AND DO THAT OH MY GOD WE'RE GONNA DIE WE'RE GONNA DIE WE'RE GONNA DIE EVERY COVIE DOWN THERE IS GONNA BE AFTER US DESPERADO WHAT'RE WE GONNA DO NOW IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT IF I'M GOING TO HELL YOU BETTER BE GOING THERE WITH ME!**"

"Shut up!" I had grabbed the Elite's energy sword and was dragging Pillsbury behind me with my other hand. Both of my guns were across my back now, and I ignited the sword. "Cover my six if you wanna make yourself useful!"

"**THERE'S TOO GODDAMN MANY OF 'EM DESPERADO I CAN'T PICK 'EM OFF LIKE THIS LET ME GO I WANNA RUN!**"

He had a good point; we'd both move faster if he was running. I stopped, but only momentarily, to haul Pillsbury to his feet, hoping we'd be able to move fast enough to outrun all of the Covenant on our tail. I had been running in the direction we'd come, hoping we could get back in the HEVs and trick them, but I didn't see our pods anywhere.

This day kept getting better and better.

**0945 Hours, November 5, 2545 (Military Calendar) \**

**Karn, Epsilon Galilei System**

**UNSC LADY FORTUNE, BRIDGE**

**UNSC Navy, Tori Fero**

"Commander, incoming transmission from Captain Shepard." I was worried about Phil. His strike team had dropped nearly an hour ago and we hadn't heard from them since. Hopefully this was good news.

Commander Brown pointed at the holoprojector near the front of the bridge. "Patch him through, Fero." I did as ordered and Captain Shepard's helmet appeared. "Captain Shepard. What's your status? Your reinforcements will be arriving in about three hours. I hope your mission is going as planned."

Captain Shepard's head moved, as though he was hesitating. "Well, sir… we reached the canyon. Covenant forces must be spread thin across the planet; we ran into several small recon teams on the way here."

"Why would they do that?"

"I won't lie, Commander. They saw us drop."

"They. What." I could see Commander Brown becoming angry. It wouldn't be good if he lost his cool.

"A Banshee was out, and… it got Aitken and Pillsbury, sir. I'm sorry."

I tried, somewhat unsuccessfully, to stifle my gasp. No, he couldn't be dead, he wasn't dead, Phil was alive, and this was a joke.

Commander Brown closed his eyes, bowed his head, and took a deep breath. "Aitken was a good soldier. I'll see to it their families know."

"If I may, sir. The canyon is actually a valley. The cave is here, and there's also a steep hill going up the other side. Most of the footprints in the sand down here indicate movement up the hill, _away_ from our drop point."

"Your point, Captain."

"They can't be after us, specifically, sir."

Everyone else in the room murmured and whispered in disbelief. I was still trying to come to grips with the fact Phil was dead. And that rookie, too. He was so young. Why? Why them, of all people? Phil had promised me he would always wear his charm, the one I made for him, the one that symbolized our love. It should have protected him, and Pillsbury, too, if Phil was looking after him.

"Captain, your orders to investigate the cave stand. You know why. After we clear out the Covenant, we will search everywhere for Aitken's and Pillsbury's bodies, I promise you that. But now is the best time to strike, while the Covenant are dispersed. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir. Captain Shepard, over and out."

I fought to hold back the tears from my eyes. He really was gone. Even if he and Pillsbury had somehow survived, the Covenant reconnaissance groups would have killed them by now. I felt Commander Brown's hand on my shoulder and looked up, knowing my eyes were filled with tears but not caring.

"I don't expect any communications for a while, Fero. You're dismissed until I call you back up." There was something in his eyes that told me he knew what I was going through. For a moment, his face seemed almost kind.

"Yes, sir," I said, my voice shaking. I left the bridge calmly. Once I was outside, I put my back against the wall and slid to the floor, my eyes releasing waterfalls of tears. Never again would I hear him laugh, see him smile, watch him do something stupid to impress me, ask him about his charm, feel his arms around me keeping me safe, or hear him call me "Angel" in that special way he had.

I sobbed quietly, grieving for my Desperado.


	5. 05 A Reunion and Three Hundred Funerals

**0953 Hours, November 5, 2545 (Military Calendar) \**

**Karn, Epsilon Galilei System**

"**Valley Alpha"**

**ODST Spec. Ops, Louis Diamond**

"Let's get moving, men." Captain Shepard made for the cave entrance.

"Hold up, Cap," said Hoffman. "There's something you haven't told us about this mission. I have a feeling it's why you left the drop room."

Come to think of it, Hoffman was right; we didn't know what we were getting ourselves into, and we never had any orders to investigate the cave. "Cap. What's going on?"

I heard Captain Shepard sigh over the com channel. "You're soldiers. You don't need to know everything. Sometimes it's better when you don't. Now follow me, or I'll have you all court-martialed. I can explain later."

Jacobs stood in his way. "No, Cap. If there's something about this mission we don't know, then you better fess up now."

To prevent him from walking around Jacobs, the rest of us created a circle to cut off our captain. Sarge spoke up. "Shepard. We _all_ should know what's waiting for us down there."

Captain Shepard shifted his grip on his MA5. "On the way," he growled.

We fell into line behind him and began to make for the cave. "Alright, here's the deal. As you know, Karn has neither strategic nor economic value. We had a few bases here, a colony town there, but, for the most part, this desert was undisturbed. And with good reason. About, say, seventy years ago, an archaeological team dug down and found what they _thought_ was a weapon of some ancient race. In any case, they discovered we were _not_ the first ones on Karn."

Miller was intrigued. I could tell from his tone. "It belonged to the Forerunners, then."

"Yes." We were well into the cave now, and we hadn't run into any Covenant so far. I admired the precision of their alien technology; these tunnels were fairly recently cut, and the walls were as smooth as a baby's skin. "Naturally, it was studied. Our best men looked at it, and eventually discovered its purpose. It was a map. Even though they couldn't understand the glyphs of the alien language, they saw what appeared to be seven rings centering on Earth. This scared the hell out of the UNSC, and, rather than investigate further, they had the entire research team killed for security reasons and buried the map again. We've continued to watch the Covenant after they took over, though, knowing what would happen if they knew how to interpret the glyphs and discover the location of Earth."

Behm said, "And that's where we come in, right?"

Captain Shepard didn't bother giving us a vocal answer. We knew what he would say. Sarge spoke up. "Then let's get these Covenant wankers out of here."

It was still about twenty minutes before we ran into any Covenant. Unfortunately, they'd already found the artifact. It was in the center of a giant chamber, with the drab gray typical of the Forerunners mixed with the purples of the Covenant. I could see a lot of Elites, all with Grunt followers, a smaller amount of Jackals (even though there were still a lot), and quite a few Brutes. I thought I saw a Prophet down there, too. We had our work cut out for us.

Miller whistled. "Nice site they've got down here."

Behm nodded. "Yeah, it looks pretty. Let's blow it the hell up."

**1020 Hours, November 5, 2545 (Military Calendar) \**

**Karn, Epsilon Galilei System**

**UNKNOWN POINT IN A CAVE ON KARN**

**ODST Spec. Ops, Phillip Aitken**

"How much further, Desperado?"

"I dunno, Rook. A while."

"Why are we down here anyway?"

"Hey, it got us away from the Covies, right?"

After finally outrunning the Covenant chasing us, Pillsbury and I had found a cave. Our HUDs were still fried, so we didn't know if the canyon where we found it was our mission or even if it was possibly the one where we'd found the army in the first place, but we had to get away somehow.

We walked a little further. I thought I heard the hum of machinery. "You ready for some action, Rookie? I think I hear Covenant tech." Of course, if anyone would know, it'd be me. As we continued on, the sounds steadily grew louder. Eventually we found a huge, cavernous chamber of obvious Forerunner design. I didn't like what I was seeing; there were way too many Covenant down there, along with a Prophet – I noted it wasn't one of the Hierarchs. Of course they wouldn't send one of those guys, but the fact there was a Prophet here anyway unsettled me. He sat in his hovering chair in front of some sort of console, speaking into a Covenant communication device. Were the Covenant combing the planet to find us, since Forerunner technology could only be operated by humans?

I thought I could make out some faint black shapes on the other side of the chamber. They looked like they were clad in… ODST armor! The squad! I tried comming them, but my helmet systems were still down. I'd have Miller or McAdams look at it back on the _Lady_. I nudged Pillsbury.

"You see that thing in the hoverchair, Rookie? That's a San'Shyum, also known as a Prophet, even though that's really a title, and they're the bigwigs in the Covenant. Kill him, and you stand to demoralize all of the other Covenant down there. At least temporarily, because more likely than not they'll want to avenge their fallen leader. Live up to your callsign and pull off a headshot, pal."

"And here I thought you would give me a challenge."

"Don't get cocky yet."

Pillsbury sighted up, intent on having his first real kill be one that mattered.

**1040 Hours, November 5, 2545 (Military Calendar) \**

**Karn, Epsilon Galilei System**

**Forerunner Map Chamber**

**ODST Spec. Ops, Louis Diamond**

As we were planning our attack, the unexpected happened. We heard the unmistakable _**CRACK**_of an SRS99 sniper rifle. We peeked out from behind our rock formation just in time to see most of the Prophet's brain explode through the front of its face, led by a bullet and faint smoke trail.

Rather than decide where the shot had come from, we decided to take advantage of the utter confusion left by the Prophet's untimely death. Behm brought his Jackhammer rocket launcher to bear as the rest of us took up firing positions since we had Battle Rifles. I shut out all other thoughts, all other emotions, sounds, sights. All I could focus on was killing the Covenant before they killed me.

They were all charging up the ramps leading to our position, but they dropped like flies under the pressure we were laying down. Our guardian angel appeared to be on the move, his bullets hitting home every time. Then an energy sword mixed with MA5 fire began to cut through the other side of the Covenant forces advancing on us. Had an Elite gone rogue? I wasted no time thinking about it. Always I was on the enemy, always on the Elites, Jackals, Grunts, and Brutes. Captain Shepard was yelling into the comm channel, but what he was saying I couldn't tell.

Then one last Brute had two energy sword blades erupt from its abdomen, and the assailant pulled them out, allowing the dead alien to fall to the ground, revealing our guardian angel, or, more accurately, angels.

"Jesus!" Aitken exclaimed through his helmet's speakers. "What took you guys so long?"

Pillsbury pointed his rifle at the ceiling, a pose that didn't look as badass as it may have since the SRS was almost a foot longer than he was tall. "Yeah, we've been looking everywhere for you assholes. What gives?"

**1320 Hours, November 5, 2545 (Military Calendar) \**

**Karn, Epsilon Galilei System**

**UNSC Lady Fortune, in orbit over Karn**

**ODST Spec. Ops, Phillip Aitken**

We made it back onboard the _Lady_ in one piece and were debriefed. Another team was sent down in a Pelican to help Behm bury the chamber for good while the rest of us kept the Covenant off their asses with the Warthogs. I decided I officially loved Gauss turrets. Pillsbury was better than I'd expected, and I looked forward to our future battles together.

An ONI spook had come with the reinforcements from the various other ships, and he told us we'd forget all about this mission. There never were any Forerunner artifacts on Karn, and there never will be. That suited us just fine.

We had changed out of our armor and into our fatigues. My charm was proudly displayed around my neck, a rounded block of wood with an "X" carved into it. I touched it lightly as I left the room after the briefing. I felt something hit the back of my head, hard.

"OW!"

"You _idiot_!" Tori was the one who'd hit me. Her hands were on her hips. She was angry. "Do you have any idea what I went through? I thought you were dead! Everyone did! I, I, I…"

She threw herself at me, holding me tightly like she'd never let me go ever again. I put my arms around her, stroking her hair, comforting her. Tori buried her face in my chest to wipe off her tears and then turned her head so I would be able to hear her. "I thought I'd lost you. I was scared."

I kissed her head. "I know. And I'm sorry. I thought I was a goner when I got hit. But you know what protected me?" I kept my hands on her shoulders and gave her room to see my charm. With my right hand I took her left and brought it up to feel the smooth surface of the wood. "It was this. It was you."

She smiled despite herself, the tears in her eyes making them shine even more radiantly. "You dummy. You always know what to say."

We kissed for a long time, not caring whether it was a violation of the PDA regs, and just stood there in each other's arms. Then Commander Brown gave the order for all crew to report to their cryotubes.

As Tyche locked us all in, I thought of the day's work, and decided it was a job well done before sleep claimed me.


	6. 06 They Could Have Been Our Daddies

**0900 Hours, July 8, 2549 (Military Calendar) \ (Four Years Later)**

**Yojimbo, Arca Generanda System**

**UNSC Lady Fortune (Briefing Room), on the surface of Yojimbo**

**ODST Spec. Ops, Phillip Aitken**

"Yojimbo is a large planet. There can only be one reason the Covenant are concentrated in this one area, even if there are only three or four Phantoms at most." Captain Shepard indicated a red point on the hologram of the planet.

I raised my hand. "Forerunner artifact?"

Tyche nodded. "Yes. You may remember our mission on Karn four years ago."

How could we forget? Pillsbury and I had been separated from the rest of the squad with no way of contacting them or knowing where our mission was. Even worse, they thought we were dead. It turns out the Covenant were looking for a map to something; they found it but couldn't activate it because they needed human Reclaimers. We kicked their asses and were told to forget about the map. The Karn mission was Pillsbury's first. I'd served alongside him in a few missions since, and I had to admit he was getting more confident and skilled all the time. He was really part of the squad now, as much as any of us.

Miller, our tech, chuckled. "The Covies really have a fetish, don't they?"

"This particular aspect of the 'fetish' is deadly, Miller, and no laughing matter," growled Sergeant McNally.

Captain Shepard glared at Miller, but kept his voice level. "We have reason to believe the Forerunners left a weapon here. The likely possibility is a warship of some kind. Our job is to make sure the Covenant can't use it, or, if possible, stop them from reaching it in the first place. We got a lucky break when we landed. Miraculously, none of the Covenant ships in orbit noticed us. But this mission will be difficult. Any questions?"

We had none. "Gear up and head out."

I grabbed Good Ol' Boy and my M90 at the armory and kissed Tori good-bye. "Try to come back in as few pieces as possible," she said. I just smirked and followed the rest of the squad outside. The area where the _Lady_ had landed was a marshy wetland which smelled terrible. We trudged through, watching our steps and keeping an eye out for enemy contact. Jacobs' voice came over the COM.

"Why would we bury this Forerunner warship if only humans can use Forerunner tech? Think about it; if we took the ship – "

"Assuming that's what it is, of course," Hoffman interjected.

"Right. So, if it _is_ a ship that could demolish our Navy, why doesn't HIGHCOM want to take it for themselves to use against the Covenant?"

"You might be onto something there, Operator." Diamond used Jacobs' callsign.

"Our job is to follow orders, not question them. Keep moving." Captain Shepard's voice had an edge to it, but we knew he thought the same way.

But he was right; we didn't give or question orders. We followed them.

**9****th**** Age of Reclamation**

**Yojimbo, Arca Generanda System**

**Covenant Phantom Magnanimous Splendor, on the surface of Yojimbo**

**Sangheili Shipmaster Woran'Darhomee**

As we prepared for battle, I thought on our mission. My Phantom, the _Magnanimous Splendor_, had been chosen as one of the few to go down to the planet's surface in an attempt to unearth the Forerunner warship the Hierarchs had ordered our fleet to find. As the most senior Sangheili among us, I was chosen to lead the expedition. We had a complement of Kig-Yar and several Unggoy; sufficient forces for an outing such as this.

When we reached the doorway, an Oracle greeted us. The Oracles were Forerunner constructs, gifted with what the Humans named "artificial intelligence." It hovered in front of me, level with my face. The light it emitted was green.

"Oh! Visitors! I do so enjoy visitors! Although… I haven't had any since my Creators last activated the Array… but never mind that! Visitors! Here! It is most fortunate that there still exists sentient life despite the firing of the Rings!" It spoke, in a lilting voice, the language of the Humans: English. I knew I was one of the few among us who would be able to understand it.

My soldiers gaped in amazement and made remarks nonetheless. "An Oracle?" "Impossible!" "Glorious day! A testament to the legacy of the Forerunners!"

"My apologies, where are my manners? I am Three-Five-Two-One Inquisitive Paradigm, the Monitor assigned to protect the Keyship hidden here!" The Oracle turned its eye toward the ground, away from us. "Oh, dear, I don't think I should have mentioned that. Well, I have been isolated for nigh on one hundred three thousand Reclaimer years. It is entirely possible I have become rampant, and would be forgiven by my Creators were they currently – "

"ENOUGH!" I shouted. "We seek access to the Keyship of which you speak!"

"Oh? The Keyship?" Briefly, it turned back to face me, but immediately returned to its former facing. "They aren't Reclaimer… Didact told me to remove any non-Reclaimer presence. However, they are not infected. It couldn't possibly do any harm, could it…? What to do, what to do…"

"ORACLE!" I grabbed it in my left hand, igniting one of my swords with my right. "I am Woran'Darhomee of the _Magnanimous Splendor_! I _demand_ entry! The Covenant must have the Keyship!"

It tried to pull free of my grip, unsuccessfully. "The turn your disposition has taken does not make me inclined to permit you to enter. Perhaps you should try courtesy."

I unhanded the Oracle and deactivated my weapon, huffing loudly at its insolence. I hoped this would be the last Oracle I would ever encounter. "Would you be so kind, Oracle, as to let us in?"

"That's better! Certainly!" It hummed a song as a ray of green light extended to the door. It opened dutifully.

"Thank you, Oracle," I said, and gestured to my accompaniment to follow me, save a handful of Sangheili with three Unggoy each to stand guard.

"Do be careful of the Sentinels, Woran'Darhomee! Despite my orders, they may not receive you kindly as they will a Reclaimer," it called after us.

I ignored this comment and marched on.

**1015 Hours, July 8, 2549 (Military Calendar) \**

**Yojimbo, Arca Generanda System**

**Forest on the surface of Yojimbo**

**ODST Spec. Ops, Captain Michael Shepard**

"How much longer, Cap? My legs are killin' me…" Pillsbury complained.

"We've been walking for nearly an hour, Captain. Crackshot's got a point. Maybe it's time to take a rest," Hoffman said. He usually knew what he was talking about, but I wasn't going to risk the Covenant getting to the ship before we got a chance to say anything about it.

"No." I hopped over a log in my way. "I don't know how much ground we still have to cover, and the Covies could have beaten us there already. I'm not taking _any_ chances, boys, so suck it up and keep moving, dammit."

"Jesus," Diamond sighed, "What's two minutes to get off our feet?"

McNally was in a surprising mood: agreeable with the squad. "Shepard, it might not be a bad idea to just sit down for a breather."

I was about to lose my temper, but I thought I saw Phantoms parked a few klicks ahead. I made a signal to halt, followed by one for silence. Everyone readied their weapons. I pointed at Pillsbury, then my eyes beneath my helmet, and finally forward. It was the code for him to look ahead with his rifle. He sighted up. After looking for a bit, Pillsbury held up five fingers and made his hand resemble an Elite's head. Then he held up three fingers and put a fist over his mouth. Five Elites, three Grunts each. That wasn't a challenge.

I whispered over the COM. "Okay, Crackshot, take out four of the Elites, quick. Go for headshots; with the Elites dead, the Grunts will just run like idiots until we clean 'em out. Operator, you and I will use our Battle Rifles on the last Elite. Everyone else, wait until the squid-faces are taking dirt naps, then advance."

Pillsbury held his breath and took careful aim. Jacobs and I followed suit. "Fire," I said.

Four cracks drowned out the sound of the Battle Rifles firing in their three-shot bursts. I heard four Elites howl and saw each of them drop. The fifth took longer to bring down, but he still had no idea where the shots had come from. I gave the "advance" signal. The fifteen Grunts fired blindly into the forest, hoping to hit us. Pillsbury stayed behind and reloaded, picking off a few more Covies. Most of us had BRs, so we could fight at range. Each enemy lay dead by the time we got to the door.

"Okay, boys." I inspected the bodies. "This is bad news. The Covenant beat us here."

"By my Creators! Reclaimers! Nine of them!" I looked around for the source of the lilting tone as the squad brought their guns to bear. A small, spherical, floating robot with a single green eye hovered down from above. "I've always wanted to see a Reclaimer! Do you all look like that?"

"What the hell…?" I couldn't figure out what this thing was.

"I am Three-Five-Two-One Inquisitive Paradigm, Monitor assigned to protect the Keyship buried here!"

Miller gasped. "You're a Forerunner AI?"

"Yes!" The thing floated to Miller. "Do you know much of my Creators?"

"To be honest, no, but we know of them through a group of aliens known as the Covenant. These guys here…" Miller moved his arm to encompass the corpses, "were part of the Covenant. Did you let anyone like them in here?"

"Not long ago. I probably shouldn't have, but I was just so happy to have visitors."

Aitken walked up to the Monitor. "Hey, it's alright. Will you let us in, though? They want to use that Keyship to kill all of us."

The Monitor moved in an almost human way, simulating confusion. "They want to kill the Reclaimers? Why?"

"Beats the hell outta us," said Aitken. "But it'll be bad if we don't stop them."

Inquisitive Paradigm turned towards the door and shot it with a green laser, unlocking it. "An enemy of the Reclaimers is an enemy of me and the Sentinels! They have been added to the targeting ledger! I will help you!"

With me in the lead, we walked into the structure. Inquisitive Paradigm followed us. I wanted to ask the Monitor a question. "Hey, Light Bulb."

"Yes, Reclaimer?"

"What's a Reclaimer?"

"You. Your kind. You are the descendants of the Forerunners."

"Oh."

I opened a private channel to Miller. "We're the Forerunners' descendants?"

"I think he's rampant, Captain. He doesn't know what he's talking about."


	7. 07 It's Time to Duel

**9****th**** Age of Reclamation**

**Yojimbo, Arca Generanda System**

**Forerunner complex below the surface of Yojimbo**

**Sangheili Shipmaster Woran'Darhomee**

The facility was much like a labyrinth. Often we found ourselves traversing the same paths, over and over, and at times we believed we were advancing only to arrive at a room we had entered long past. I could not falter, however. The Prophet of Truth himself handed down this task to our battle cruiser, the _Relentless Interdict_. Our only excuse for failure would be death. Otherwise… I did not want to think about it.

"Shipmaster!" One of my Sangheili pointed out a hovering machine. Perhaps this was one of the Sentinels of which the Oracle spoke.

It regarded us with a single eye, clicking and whirring. "Non-Reclaimer bioforms found in Sector Eight-Seven-Two. Course of action: immediate neutralization."

I yelled something to my soldiers, but not even I knew what it was. Many of us ran. There was a group of Unggoy bold enough to raise their weapons at the Sentinel; before they could register what was happening, an orange shaft of light seared their flesh, killing them instantly. They were only Unggoy. They would not be mourned.

There still remained a fear that if I survived, sharing their fate would be preferable to the consequences I would have to face.

**1040 Hours, July 8, 2549 (Military Calendar) \**

**Yojimbo, Arca Generanda System**

**Forerunner complex below the surface of Yojimbo**

**ODST Spec. Ops, Phillip Aitken**

I called to the Monitor, which was leading us down the long corridors of the Forerunner complex. "Hey, Paradigm, are you sure this is the right way?"

"Of course it is the right way. I know this facility better than I know my own circuits." Inquisitive Paradigm went back to humming quietly to itself.

"So, Captain, what's the plan? Let's say the Covenant beat us to the Keyship." Pillsbury rolled his shoulders. "What'll we do?"

"Any suggestions?"

"Well," Behm began, "I'd sure like to just blow the bastards up." He tapped his rocket launcher, on his back while he had Panama Red out. "The Sentinels do their job right, we won't have too many to worry about."

"We'll put that in the 'Maybe' column, Pyro."

"I like 'Maybe.'" I could actually hear the grin.

I spoke up. "Cap, I've got an idea. The task force is most likely being led by Elites. Their culture revolves around honor."

"I'm listening."

"If you challenge his honor in a duel, there's a possibility he won't just have his men shoot us down. That is, if there are any left. Propose a fight to the death with energy swords so he thinks he has the advantage. If you can beat him, then just pin him down and let him live. Not only will he be dishonored personally, but he'll have failed his mission. Those two things combined would be enough for an Elite to wish he _had_ died."

Captain Shepard thought about it. "It sounds good, but it kind of depends on my winning and surviving, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, but tell me you don't think it's the best idea I've ever had."

Our captain said nothing, and I knew he approved.

**9****th**** Age of Reclamation**

**Yojimbo, Arca Generanda System**

**Forerunner complex below the surface of Yojimbo**

**Sangheili Shipmaster Woran'Darhomee**

Much of my force was dead. They had been killed by the ones the Oracle called Sentinels. The intensified rays of light they used as weapons overloaded our shields. "You are not Reclaimer," they would say. My only remaining soldiers were three Sangheili. I had no other recourse but to continue until we found the Relic.

When we finally arrived at the room containing the Relic, there were several humans waiting for us with the Oracle. Had it led them through the complex to this chamber? "Oracle!" I yelled. "What is the meaning of this?"

"You mean to use the Keyship to destroy the Reclaimers! This cannot be allowed to happen!"

"Easy there, Paradigm," one of the humans said.

Another, presumably the leader by his stance and the symbol on his shoulder, stepped forward with his weapon. "Relax, Light Bulb. I've got this." He addressed me. "You! In the gold armor! You understand English? I want to negotiate!"

"We don't negotiate with heretics!"

"Hold on," the human said. "You're at a disadvantage here. We outnumber you about two to one. You're hardly in a position to be saying that. I want to have a duel with you, using energy swords, to death. None of our men can interfere. If I win, you will be dead and your soldiers will return your body to your commanders. If you win, my troops will leave, and you can have the Keyship."

Heretic scum! He must have known that I would not be able to refuse. But how?! It was no matter. "I accept your challenge as well as the terms! But you must remove your helmet!"

"Deal." He unsealed it and lifted it from his head, handing it and his weapons to a comrade. I gave my plasma rifles to my lieutenant and stepped forward to meet the human leader. He held out his hand for one of my swords. Although it disgusted me to see it in a human's hands, he would be easily beaten. We stepped away from each other and ignited our blades.

"What is your name, human?"

"I am Captain Michael Shepard, commanding officer of the ODST Special Forces assigned to the UNSC _Lady Fortune_."

"I am Shipmaster Woran'Darhomee, commander of the _Magnanimous Splendor_.Have you made peace with your creator, Michael Shepard?"

"I haven't spoken to my father since I left Earth thirty years ago, and he's been dead for ten of them."

Humor. I was often told humans deal with the rigors of facing a life-or-death situation in this way.

The duel began.

**1120 Hours, July 8, 2549 (Military Calendar) \**

**Yojimbo, Arca Generanda System**

**Forerunner complex below the surface of Yojimbo**

**ODST Spec. Ops, Captain Michael Shepard**

I played defensively. The Elite began by charging at me, his sword raised high. He'd be going for a diagonal slice. I brought up my sword to block it. I got lucky; I was worried I'd positioned it wrong. Keeping the blades locked, I sidestepped and brought my sword around, going for his legs. Elite knees bend in an odd way, so he was able to dodge with little difficulty. The asshole went for a decapitation, but I ducked at the last second. I could feel the plasma in the air above my scalp before I fell into a roll to put some distance between us.

As I figured out what I was going to do, I knew he was behind me and blindly spun around, bringing the sword up in an arc like I was gutting a fish. I rotated my wrist slightly to make the blow a diagonal cut. He had no choice but to block, but it was too late. The blade cut through flesh and bone, and 'Darhomee cried out in pain. I heard his energy sword hit the ground, and I dove to grab it while he clutched the cauterized stump where his right hand used to be.

"Pillsbury!" I shouted. He understood and dropped the three Elites Minor. Whether or not 'Darhomee was paralyzed with shock or fear I didn't know, but either way I took the opportunity to tackle him. The dumbstruck Elite hit the ground. I took his good arm and used the empty space between the prongs of one of the swords to pin it down. My knee was pressed hard into his chest, allowing him little breathing room, and I put the other sword at his throat.

"Dishonorable human _scum_!" 'Darhomee coughed, careful not to move his head too much. "Just end my life now! Finish it!"

I smiled. "Oh, no. You don't get off that easily. Hoffman, get me some braces to stuff this split-mouthed bastard into."

The squad had also removed their helmets. Most of them were smiling. "But Captain," said Hoffman, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice, "my braces are only designed for humans…"

"Exactly."

The look of pure terror in an Elite's eyes would stay with me until my dying day.

**1210 Hours, July 8, 2549 (Military Calendar) \**

**Yojimbo, Arca Generanda System**

**Forest on the surface of Yojimbo, outside Forerunner complex**

**ODST Spec. Ops, Phillip Aitken**

I had to admit the Elite looked hilarious inside the various medical braces. Miller was fiddling with a homing beacon. Captain Shepard and Sergeant McNally stood nearby with their arms crossed. Jacobs had called for Transport Warthogs to take us back to the _Lady_. Hoffman was making sure the braces held against the Elite's attempts to break free. Diamond was hitting the Grunt and Elite corpses in front of the door with his BR. Pillsbury was sitting on the ground next to me, cleaning his SRS. Behm, standing on my other side, was a bit disappointed he didn't get to blow anything up. Inquisitive Paradigm hovered next to Behm.

"Hey, cheer up, man," I said, slapping Behm on the back. "We did good today."

"Yeah… yeah, I guess. It would have been nice to fire my Spanker, though."

"Spanker" was slang for the M19 SSM Rocket Launcher, named for the large letters along the side: SPNKr. I patted his back again. "Maybe next time."

Behm smiled at the prospect of it. "Yeah. Next time for sure."

Inquisitive Paradigm bobbed up and down. "This has been a truly exciting experience, Reclaimers. I would very much like to come with you."

I exchanged a glance with Behm. "I don't think that's a good idea, Paradigm. They'll dissect you like a frog."

"Frog?" Its tone was questioning.

"Reclaimer saying," Behm explained. "Don't worry about it."

"But what am I to do? I can't let any other visitors in, and they cannot force their way through the door."

I shrugged. "You'll think of something."

"Yes… I suppose you are right." It floated away rather sulkily for an emotionless machine.

Miller shouted in triumph, and placed the device on the ground next to the Elite. "Jacobs," he said, "how long until transport gets here?"

"About five minutes, Miller."

"Perfect. The beacon is set to go off in twenty minutes, enough time for us to get the hell out of here before they locate the signal."

"Miller, you're a genius," said Captain Shepard approvingly.

**0800 Hours, August 12, 2549 (Military Calendar) \**

**UNSC service station in orbit around an Inner Colony World**

**UNSC Lady Fortune (Soldier's quarters), docked to service station**

**ODST Spec. Ops, Phillip Aitken**

"Reclaimer?"

I woke up with a jolt. We had jumped to a random point according to the Cole Protocol, and then made another quick jump to deep space, not too far from this planet. Commander Brown had found it unnecessary to put us in the freezers, so we were living normally. I felt like I had just gotten to sleep before Inquisitive Paradigm woke me up.

"Paradigm…?" I was still groggy, but after about five seconds it registered. "You're not supposed to be here!" The Monitor had stowed away on the _Lady_!

"But Reclaimer – "

"I don't want to hear it, Paradigm." I rolled back onto my stomach, taking my sheet with me. "I don't care how you got on here, but it was probably with the help of a cloaking device, right?"

"Yes."

I sighed. "I guess you can stay in here, as long as you stay cloaked, and _do not_, under _any_ circumstances, leave. It might be better if you go into some kind of sleep mode…"

"Oh, thank you, Reclai – "

"That's another thing. My name is Phil. Now let me sleep."

It did. Jesus. I just hoped it wouldn't be discovered.

But I was one lucky son of a gun, so I had little doubt nobody but me would know about the Forerunner robot in my room.


	8. 08 Honey, We're Home!

**1545 Hours, October 21, 2552 (Military Calendar) \ (Three Years Later)**

**Earth, Sol System**

**UNSC Lady Fortune (Mess Hall), in orbit over Earth**

**ODST Spec Ops. Michael Pillsbury**

I was sitting in the mess hall with Diamond, Behm, Miller, and Jacobs. I'd been depressed after Reach. Understandably so, of course. It'd depress anybody to live with the fact that the Covenant had found your home planet, attacked _en masse_, nearly routed the entire defense force, and glassed the whole damn rock, killing everyone you knew and loved, while you could do nothing before your ship jumped the hell out of there and you got stuffed in the freezer after having been sedated by a friend.

We were making a quick stop in the Epsilon Eridani system to refuel when the Covies attacked. We were just about to jump to Slipspace, a little way from Reach; we started picking up signals from the battle. Commander Brown asked Admiral Whitcomb if they needed backup, but the admiral told us to jump; he didn't want any more people dying. I didn't care. I tried to fight my way to one of our Longswords, a Pelican, anything, but Aitken and Captain Shepard got a hold of me and dragged me, kicking and screaming, to the infirmary while Tyche calculated a Slipspace solution. Sergeant McNally had Hoffman sedate me and Aitken woke me up from cryosleep while we were in Slipspace. He said Commander Brown ordered I be put in my cryotube until after the random Cole Protocol jump. I stood in front of him for a second, and then just started punching him in the stomach. I was still a bit weak from the cryo, so he didn't budge. Then I just fell on my hands and knees and started crying. Aitken left me alone, knowing I had to work it out myself. We were inbound for Earth, and had been here ever since we arrived two weeks ago.

I was pulled out of my memories in time for the punch line to a joke Behm was telling. "So she says, 'That's not the Pelican,' and he says, 'That's not Sergeant Johnson!'" Everyone laughed but me. I hadn't heard the lead-in, so I was lost.

Diamond looked at me when he was done laughing. "You okay, Pillsbury?"

"Yeah…" I didn't really want to talk about Reach any more. Mom was dead, Dad was dead, my brother was dead, and so was Arianna. Arianna… the girl I'd had to say "No" to. I told Aitken about it on my first mission, when we'd been separated from the rest of the squad. She was gone. I was hoping I would see her again once the war was over. I could still hear her whispering in my ear as we watched the ships leaving, knowing full well I'd be on one of them come morning. "Stay with me, Mike, please… don't leave…"

Miller knew what I was thinking about. "I know Reach is gone, Pillsbury, but you're dishonoring your family and friends if you let it eat away at you. You know the best thing you can do to honor their memory? Keep Earth from suffering the same fate. God forbid the Covenant ever actually finding Earth, but my point is people like us are the only ones who can stop them."

"I guess."

Just then Aitken walked through the door with Tori on his arm. "Good afternoon to you all, gentlemen! How's life?"

"Well," I began, "my homeworld, as you know, was glassed by the Covenant almost three months back."

"With the exception of you, we're all sexless," continued Behm.

"And broke, including you," said Miller.

"As well as unhappy," Diamond used to keep the ball rolling.

"Not to mention underappreciated," finished Jacobs.

"So business as usual? Everyone's life still sucks?" Aitken and Tori took seats at the table and he put his arm around her, giving her a peck on the cheek.

We all answered in the affirmative.

Tori said, "You know, Pillsbury is the only one with a legitimate reason. Behm, you don't know for sure that Phil is getting any. Miller, we don't need money. Diamond, you're a pessimist. And Jacobs, everyone down there is appreciative that plasma-related death hasn't rained down on them yet, so you're plenty appreciated."

"That's my girl!" Aitken kissed her again.

Hoffman made his entrance. "Aitken, Tori, Pillsbury, Miller, Diamond, Behm, Jacobs. Are you all as bored as I am?"

"Probably." I folded my arms. "What happened with the engineer?"

"It was just a tiny burn. He was a real baby about it. I told him to suck it up and get back to work after I put some ointment on it."

Behm stretched his arms. "Man, I wish something would happen…"

"All hands to battle stations. This is not a drill. I repeat, all hands to battle stations. This is _not_ a drill." We all recognized Tyche's voice. "ODSTs, report to the bridge for orders."

Hearing that, we leaped out of our chairs and booked it down the corridors to the bridge. Tori managed to keep up; I was impressed. Aitken had landed himself a real keeper. I wanted to have someone like that someday. "You had to go and open your big goddamn mouth, didn't you, Behm?" "Shut the hell up, Diamond."

"Impeccable timing, Marines." Commander Brown pretended to look at a stopwatch. "It only took you TOO GODDAMNED LONG to get here!"

"Commander, with all due respect, I'm sure they came as fast as they can." Captain Shepard turned to us. "There's no easy way to say this, boys, so I'll just come out with it. The Covenant found Earth. They're here."

There was a long pause.

"SON OF A BITCH," yelled Diamond as he pounded the wall with a fist.

"Suit up, ladies," barked Commander Brown. "We're getting orders to drop you into New Mombasa, some poor Kenyan city that the Covenant landed in. Oddly enough, it's one of the only places."

"Aye aye, sir!" We started to snap off salutes in unison, but halfway through Commander Brown yelled, "AT EASE, DAMMIT, GET MOVING!" Aitken chanced a good-bye to Tori and we all double-timed it to get our armor before going to Doelp for our weapons. He didn't bother with any small talk. He knew what was going on. As we left, he shouted, "Give 'em hell, fellas!" We could feel the _Lady_ accelerating toward the planet. We strapped into our coffins and were released with little warning. I felt the familiar heat of entry, the sharp jerk of the drag chute, the hard jolt of planetfall. As I fell I saw dozens more HEVs. We weren't the only guys who were going to ruin the Covenant's day.

Our front panels popped, and we stepped out, grabbing our guns. "Hey," said Aitken, "I hear there are Spartan _threes_ down here with us. They're wearing ODST armor. There's talk the Master Chief is here, too."

"The Master Chief, John-117, being down here, _that_ I believe, but come on, Spartan _threes_? No such thing, man." Diamond checked his BR as we ran into the fight.

I took up position behind a wrecked civvie Hog and sighted up. I wasn't alone in my sniping. A shot from a rooftop dropped a gold-armored Elite. I admired the skill of my counterpart; it was a good, clean headshot. A little further up the road there were some more Marines hunkered down with a few ODSTs. I quickly checked the other sniper; he was an ODST, too. He took out the turrets that were giving us all some trouble and we took the opportunity to advance. COM chatter told us we were serving with the 77th Marine Regiment's Delta Company today. Our job was to get to a parking garage. I just followed everyone else.

We eventually made it to the garage and got inside. The other ODST sniper was just about there when some Banshees took some shots at him. He fell over. I heard the Banshees peel off to another part of the city, having neutralized the poor schmuck. One of his teammates ran out and dragged him into the garage. Over the COM, he said, "We need some help over here! Medic! Where's a medic!"

Hoffman stood up. "That's my cue." He walked over to the two ODSTs and started asking some questions.

"That was tough," I heard Behm say.

"Try being the guy on the floor over there," I replied.

Miller sighed. "He's a goner."


	9. 09 Moment's Reprieve

**1830 Hours, October 21, 2552 (Military Calendar) \ **

**Earth, Sol System**

**New Mombasa, Kenya**

**ODST Spec. Ops. Dillon Hoffman**

I didn't start by asking the obvious question, because I'd seen what happened; a bunch of Banshees opened up on this poor guy. His teammate, who I assumed to be the leader, had been talking to him to keep him from going into shock, but his friend fell unconscious. Damn, that wasn't good. After getting hit like that, he would almost certainly be dead. "What was his name?"

"His name _is_ Alex. Alex-G004." The team leader turned to me, and I got a good look at his nameplate. Rather than a last name, it was his first name followed by a number: Tyrone-G083.

"Christ. You're Spartans?"

"Spartan-IIIs, man. I'm Tyrone-G083, leader of Team Rapier." He shook my hand. This guy was tall. Too tall; I probably should have guessed he was a Spartan. He removed his helmet. His skin was a bit darker than Sergeant McNally's, and he couldn't be more than sixteen.

"Alright," I said, kneeling to get a better look at Alex. "Then there's a good chance I can save him. I've heard you're all built pretty tough."

Tyrone smiled. "Yeah, but he's a bit tougher. Not to mention more stubborn."

"Ohmigod!" Another helmetless Spartan ran over to Alex's body. Her red hair was longer than regulations probably permitted, and she had a pretty face. Her nameplate read "Samantha-G113." "Is he okay?"

"He will be when I get done with him. Just stand back a little. I'll remove these plates…" I found the releases to the torso and right leg, and then removed the helmet. His face was pained, and he started thrashing. "Yeesh!" I had just enough time to avoid him hitting me. Even asleep, he probably could have cracked my ribs. I turned to Tyrone and Sam. "I have a stretcher we can use for him, but I'll need you two to hold him down. Then I'll get him up to a higher level and see what I can do. More likely than not, he'll live, so just let me take care of everything, okay?"

I put my medical kit down and brought out the folding stretcher stored inside. The rest of Alex's team, Robin-G227 and Emma-G132, joined us, and Robin helped Tyrone lift Alex while I slid the litter beneath. "Hey, Aitken!"

Aitken showed up at the top of the ramp to the next floor. "What do you need, Hoffman?"

"Find me some steel cords or something; they need to be strong enough to hold a Spartan down!"

"Is it the Chief or those Spartan-IIIs?"

I smiled despite the situation. "They're Spartan-IIIs."

"Bitchin', Diamond owes me a hundred creds!" Aitken walked away to find the restraints, with a spring in his step.

**1840 Hours, October 21, 2552 (Military Calendar) \ **

**Earth, Sol System**

**New Mombasa, Kenya**

**ODST Spec. Ops. Connor Behm**

The squad took a few minutes to rest before everyone had to get started on preparations; we'd removed our helmets. We were serving with one Captain Ian McCandlish, a veteran from Manchester, and his company of 200+ Marines. One of the squads under his command was sitting next to us. I counted no fewer than ten, including their sergeant. They'd lost three during the battle leading up here. I couldn't imagine what that had to feel like for them, especially after when we thought Aitken and Pillsbury were dead seven years ago back on Karn. Deciding we could use some new friends, I tried striking up a conversation and turned to a Marine with pierced ears.

"How was that for a workout, soldier?"

He realized I was addressing him and replied in an American Southern accent, "Yeah. That was tough. We lost a few people, as you can see." He extended his hand. "Private Andrew Wallace."

"Connor Behm." I accepted it and shook. "I'm an ODST."

The second part apparently wasn't needed. "No shit. I couldn't guess from all the armor."

Wallace's sergeant intervened. He had a rather thick Slavic accent to his English; he was from Russia somewhere, probably. "Wallace, take it easy. It's obvious, but you don't need to be a prick."

Captain Shepard waved the tension away. "Don't worry about it. I'm Captain Mike Shepard, by the way, the leader of these fine boys here."

"Sergeant Milos Radosljevic. This is my squad." He indicated each Marine as he introduced them. Besides Wallace, there was Tong, who looked like he was from somewhere in Asia; Drew, who had greasy-looking hair and freckles all over his face; Andrulonis, a soldier from Poland; Arena, a guy on the shorter side; Malitsky, a young blond-haired-blue-eyed kid with a baby face; Kutschera, who was taller than most of us; Nolan, who had bright orange hair; and Searl, a pretty girl with dark brown hair around Pillsbury's age. Cap introduced us all to our companions. Hoffman wasn't there, of course, because he was treating a Spartan up on level three.

Captain McCandlish walked imperiously to where we were sitting. "All right, come on," he said, "we've got to get to work if we're gonna hold this line."

The squad next to us hopped to their feet and saluted. "Yes, sir!" Radosljevic led the way to find something to get done.

"That goes for us, too, men," said Captain Shepard.

McCandlish nodded. "It's good to have some ODSTs down here. Welcome to the fight."

None of us were exactly thrilled to have to get off our asses and do some manual labor, but we did as ordered. We had to set up barriers, turrets, missile pods, the works. It wasn't exactly going to be easy to keep the Covenant from advancing. Pillsbury, Aitken, and I were lining up turrets on the top floor. The barriers had a line big enough to let the gun through and give it some swivel room, and then above that it had a thin slit so the Marine operating it could see while still protected from particle beams.

Aitken and I were far enough away from Pillsbury for me to whisper, "Hey, did you notice the way Pillsbury was looking at Searl?"

He laughed. "Yeah, why?"

"Want to have a little fun? Follow my lead."

"You got it." We walked over to where Pillsbury was assembling the turret's tripod.

"So," I said casually, grunting under the weight of the turret gun I was hefting so Pillsbury could put the tripod down, "how about that Searl chick? She was pretty hot, huh?"

"Huh? Oh, uh, yeah, I guess…" Pillsbury had been taken off guard and fumbled with the stand for a brief second.

"I'll admit she's kinda cute," Aitken remarked as he carried a case of ammo for the turret. "Of course, Tori is a lot better-looking."

"Aitken, this conversation is for single guys only."

"I can still have an opinion, Behm."

"Well, how about you, Pillsbury? She's hot, 'you guess?'" I checked the connections between the gun and its base. "Come on, we're all guys here. This is what we do, we talk about girls and we lift heavy things."

Pillsbury sighed. "Alright, you want the truth? I think she's absolutely beautiful. I want to talk to her but I think I'm just going to get all confused and not know what I'm saying, and then things will just be awkward when I try again."

Aitken loaded an ammo belt into the chaingun. "Then get rid of the fear. You're an ODST, man. We drop from miles above the ground and we're trained to overcome the fear we all feel each time we get in our HEVs. But _you_ are afraid of talking to a girl."

"Hey!" Pillsbury's tone was a bit offended. "I'm not afraid of talking to a girl, I'm afraid of talking to this _particular_ girl." He realized his mistake. "Dammit!"

"So you admit you're afraid, that's good!" I put my arm around his shoulders and pointed at him. "Listen, now that the fear's out there, just pretend you're sniping like it's another Covie."

His eyes were shut tight with the effort of envisioning this thing. "Uh… okay?"

"Perfect, now go get her, Tiger!" I pushed him away toward the ramp to go down. He turned back. Aitken and I gave him a "thumbs-up" gesture to inspire confidence. He took the ramp to find Searl.

We waved, with sarcasm. I turned my head very slightly in Aitken's direction. "Think he's got a chance?"

"Well, if he doesn't have the balls now, maybe he'll try to track her down after the war. When we win, of course."

"_When_ we win?"

"I can dream."

**1920 Hours, October 21, 2552 (Military Calendar) \ **

**Earth, Sol System**

**New Mombasa, Kenya**

**ODST Spec. Ops. Michael Pillsbury**

Behm and Aitken were my friends and all, but they could be real assholes sometimes. I didn't really feel like flirting right now. But they sure as hell wouldn't let me help them continue setting up turrets upstairs, so I resigned myself to finding Searl and helping her out. She was setting up a missile pod on level two. Since she was clearly struggling with it by herself, I walked over and took the other side, helping stabilize it.

"Thanks," she said. "Oh, you're one of those ODSTs, right? Pill… Pillsruby?"

"Close. Pillsbury. Mike Pillsbury."

"Caitlin Searl." Searl extended her hand, and I shook it. "What ship are you from?"

"I'm from a Marathon-class called the _Lady Fortune_. There's only us and a handful of pilots on board. It's strange, I know, but…"

Searl laughed. "That's funny." Did she think I was kidding? I realized I didn't care, because women liked men with a sense of humor. Or so I was told. "We're from the _Martian Envoy_."

"That's cool." We had gone to get another pod from the big pile of supplies. "Where were you born?"

"Here, on Earth. London. It's a nice city."

I didn't want to bring it up, but… "I'm from Reach," I managed with a little difficulty.

"Oh, man. That… really sucks."

"It's all in the past, I guess." Should I really use Miller's line? Well, I'd come this far. "I can't honor my family's deaths by crying about it, though. I'm going to honor their memories by making sure it doesn't happen to Earth."

"That's good."

I rubbed the back of my head. "Hey, uh, Searl… you're really beautiful. Has anyone ever told you that?"

"Just once." She smiled. "He was some short, crazy ODST from Reach that I met in a parking garage on Earth. But he was cute, so I let it slide."

I smiled back. She moved a little closer. It was nice being on eye level with someone for a change. "I'll tell you what. If we get out of this battle alive, _maybe_ I'll give you a chance."

I heard Sergeant McNally's voice. "Pillsbury! You're supposed to be helping Behm and Aitken up on the top floor, not having a wank to this dame here!"

"Oh, um, yes, sir! Aitken and Behm were actually finishing up and they told me to go find someone from Radosljevic's squad and help them – "

Sergeant McNally was right in front of me. "I don't care. Get up there and help them. That's an order!"

I saluted hastily. "Yessir!"

Searl went to find me on the top floor shortly after I'd left. Behm and Aitken pretended they weren't paying attention. Searl put her hands on either side of my face and moved it gently toward hers. We kissed briefly, and then she pulled away and put a finger to my lips. "Remember – _after_ the battle."

As she walked away, Aitken and Behm were smiling. "Look at you, Mr. Ladykiller!" exclaimed Behm.


	10. 10 Zen and the Art of Holding the Line

**2200 Hours, October 21, 2552 (Military Calendar) \**

**Earth, Sol System**

**Zharu Industries Parking Garage, New Mombasa**

**ODST Spec. Ops. Phillip Aitken**

I turned on VISR mode to help me see better in the night that had fallen over New Mombasa. I probably didn't even need it; if it was on the bridge, it was Covenant, and all I had to do was tear 'em apart with my turret. As much as I wanted to be on the ground floor with the Gauss Warthogs, McCandlish told us to stay up here on the roof, where Behm, Pillsbury and I had set up the machine gun turrets. The sky was studded with stars; it was stuff like this that made me join the UNSC. When I was young, I decided I wanted to protect everything that was worth anything to the human race, from beautiful starry nights to the family dog.

The suspension bridge was the only way into or out of the island city. All other paths had been destroyed. We _had_ to cut them off here. They'd advanced a little bit to test our strength and fell back; the scout force consisted of Grunts and Drones with one Wraith. None other than Behm had disposed of the tank, using his Jackhammer rocket launcher. That was an hour ago. I knew they would be coming _en masse_ any minute now.

"Contact," said Pillsbury. "They're about halfway across the bridge. Jesus, we're in for one hell of a fight."

The universal channel opened up. "Prepare to engage…" This was the voice of Tyrone-G083, leader of Team Rapier. Our snipers started to pick off the Covenant manning the Wraiths' plasma turrets. Something was different about this force. Where were the Elites? I saw plenty of Brutes along with normal numbers of Jackals and Grunts, but…

I shook my head. I couldn't worry about that. The Covies reached the end of the bridge. Tyrone yelled, "Open fire! Remember to let some of 'em through!" We did as ordered.

On the roof, I was stationed with the entire squad with the exception of Captain Shepard and Sarge. Hoffman had been up with us after giving that Spartan, Alex-G004, a clean bill of health and would be staying until he was needed elsewhere. Hoffman and Diamond were using Battle Rifles, Behm had a whole mess of rockets for his Jackhammer, and Pillsbury was prone with his SRS, aiming on a slight angle. My M90 and two caseless SMGs weren't going to help much at this range, so I was on a turret. While the SMGs had their appeal, I still missed Good Ol' Boy. I'd lost it on the mission right before Reach. Jacobs and Miller were also behind turrets. We absolutely tore into the bastards, giving them what they deserved, for Arcadia, Charybdis IX, Jericho VII, Reach, every human world they'd glassed.

The LOTUS Anti-Tank mines did quite a number on a lot of the Ghosts and Wraiths. Some Ghosts survived and made their way toward the garage. I heard orders given to remove the barriers in front of the entrance and saw the Ghosts' Grunt drivers collapse under the fire from the line of BRs along the ground floor. Several Marines appropriated the Ghosts and, from what I gathered over the COM, took up position along the entrance to add their twin plasma cannons to our ranks. I noticed Pillsbury was no longer with us; he'd gone down to a lower floor. What the hell was that about? We needed him _here_, and when he got back I would –

_**SHOOP!**_

"Dammit, hit the deck!" I wasn't sure if I yelled it or thought it, but the rest of the squad got down, so maybe I did say it out loud. I almost thought the building would collapse, the way it shook, but my fear was unfounded. "Is everyone okay?" It wasn't really my job to ask, but I had to know. Everyone answered in the affirmative, and this put my mind at ease. Well, as eased as a mind can be when under fire by a massive army.

Sarge was tearing into Pillsbury; I could hear it on the COM. "GOD _DAMMIT,_ DOUGH BOY, GET THE HELL BACK UP TO THE ROOF WITH THE REST OF THE SQUAD! DON'T BOTHER YOURSELF WITH ANYONE ELSE, ESPECIALLY NOT YOUR LITTLE TROLLOP!"

Sarge kept going a little afterwards, and even past when Pillsbury was back up. I kept an ironically conversational tone. "Irishmen say some pretty funny things, huh?"

"Shut up, Aitken."

We continued like this for some hours. The Brutes gave us no quarter. No matter how many we killed, four more would take the place of the newly dead one. It was the Hydra plus the ordeal of Sisyphus in one. The Hydra was a mythical ancient Greek monster with many heads. When one was cut off, there would grow two more. Hercules eventually defeated it by having his friend cauterize the wounds before it regenerated any heads. Sisyphus was condemned to Hades and forced to push a giant boulder up a hill. If he got it to the top of the hill, he would be free from this task. It was supposed to have taken him nearly an entire day to make it _almost_ to the top, but when he got to this point the boulder would roll back down to the bottom, forcing him to start over.

The Brutes held no fear. The Gauss Warthogs, the turrets, the Ghosts, the snipers, all useless against their advance. The other Spartan squad, Team Falchion, drove them back a little, but ultimately the Brutes, inspired by a chieftain with a powerful weapon known as the Gravity Hammer, charged forward to the interior of the garage. Damn.

Cap and Sarge ordered me, Diamond, and Behm to get down to level three and help clear out the Covenant. I grabbed my M90 from my back and rushed to the aid of my comrades. Hoffman was there, too, following the calls for medics. He had his work cut out for him. I heard Captain McCandlish boom, "**HOLD—THIS—LINE!** Get those LAAGs and plasma cannons turned around and aimed at the ramp! Push them back!! We will_** not**_ lose this floor!" I watched as Tyrone unslung his own boomstick and headed straight for the Brute chieftain. It regarded him with scorn and insignificance. As the alien's hammer came down, Tyrone's shotgun blocked its path. He spun out of the way while drawing his combat knife and stabbed the Brute in the side of the torso. He then jammed his shotgun against the Brute's chin and fired. What happened next when the turrets began ripping the Covies to shreds made me feel a _tad_ nauseous. I never wanted to have to smell the inside of a Brute ever again.

While we pushed them down to the floor below, I used my M90. To save ammunition I then switched to my SMGs, firing in steady streams to pepper shields with lead and weaken them for the kill. It was slow going, but the Brutes fell back, inch by inch, foot by foot. I got on one of the ground floor turrets when they had finally been ushered out into the streets. It was almost morning, with the sun peeking out over the horizon.

I could see Covenant corpses strewn all the way from the opposite end of Mombasa Bridge into the road leading to the garage and into the garage itself. Grunts and Jackals and Brutes, oh my… all that remained were Brutes, so that was something to be moderately thankful for. "I sure don't want to have to clean up this mess."

Pillsbury's rifle gave the _**CRACK**_ of a round being fired. I watched it embed itself in a Brute skull. "You know we're going to, though. We're the hosts of this party, and it's our responsibility to tidy up after the guests have gone. Or, in this case, y'know, died."

Alex-G004, sniper for Team Rapier, announced, "All units, this is Eagle Eye, I have an unknown contact bearing down on us due west." A cold fist had gripped my heart before he finished. I knew what he was talking about before he mentioned the direction. This was not good. All of us remaining inside ran out.

I heard a Marine shout, "Shit, they have a Scarab!"

A relentless stream of obscenities flowed forth from my mouth and the mouths of my fellow soldiers. I watched as the insect-like war walker moved to our position. Its four thick legs supported a large body for carrying troops and crew, which in turn supported a giant plasma cannon. The single "eye" was really a forward cannon capable of firing an extremely powerful and hazardous laser. Its armor reflected the early morning sun. Scarabs were originally intended for mining before they began to outfit them for war with more powerful armor and weapons. Assaulting it on foot would be completely out of the question, as we would need to rush over the bridge and most likely be killed in the process. No Hornets or Pelicans meant aerial warfare wasn't feasible, so we had no means to attack the only weakness: the reactor core at its heart.

The forward cannon began to charge, and Sergeant McNally yelled, "Everyone take cover!" Everywhere there were Marines diving to the ground as the cannon fired, ripping a giant hole in the front wall of the garage and destroying a bunch of our turrets. It continued its advance, and the sun reflected off it once more.

Wait a minute…

_**BOOM!**_

No, it wasn't the sun, it was a MAC round! We watched as more explosions tore the Scarab apart. The bottom half was all that remained, the rest of it having been turned into molten slag before going to the bottom of Mombasa Strait. "This is Commander Miranda Keyes of the UNSC _In Amber Clad_, heard you boys could use some backup down here." Her frigate flew above our heads as we waved and shouted with joy.

Captain McCandlish responded. "Music to my ears, Commander. Switch to a private channel and I'll give you a sit-rep."

We returned to the roof with our friends Team Rapier and took off our helmets, sprawling ourselves in relaxation and letting the sun warm us. Hoffman was below us somewhere, tending to the wounded. Emma-G132 spoke up. "That was…"

I suggested, "A difficult ordeal you'd rather not suffer through again?"

"No," she said, "it was more of an intense exercise." We all grunted. Hell for us was "exercise" to them. I, for one, felt like we had just fought for sixteen hours as opposed to the reality of eight and half; maybe nine. Most ODSTs resented Spartans, but this group was okay. I liked them. I was sure the rest of the squad thought they were alright, too.

Captain Shepard and Sergeant McNally came up the ramp. Sarge barked, "On your feet!"

We all groaned as we tried to sit up. Pillsbury said, "You gotta be kidding me, Sarge…"

Sarge sounded neither angry nor derisive. "Do you hear me laughing, Dough Boy?"

Cap said, "You boys can rest when you finish helping Delta Company get rid of all those brute corpses that we created. Aitken, Pillsbury, get downstairs, rack up some wood from the office building just down the road, and start building a bonfire in the road. Jacobs, Miller, Behm, Diamond; help the marines get all those corpses into the street. Once the fire gets going we'll burn 'em all. Once that is done, _then_ you can rest. Get to it."

We jumped to our feet and saluted before heading down the ramp. "Yes, sir!" Sarge followed us, but Captain Shepard told Team Saber an ONI agent had another op waiting for them downstairs. We passed the spook on our way out.

Behm whispered to me, "You can tell he's ONI. I hate spooks. There's just something about 'em I don't like."

I replied, "Is it maybe they all look the same and you can't trust them any further than Pillsbury can throw a Brute?"

"I have ears," said Pillsbury.

"Neither of us can throw a Brute very far, either, man. So relax." I gestured for Pillsbury to follow me while everyone else started dragging Brute carcasses outside. A voice lightly accented by Chinese made us turn around. "Please, wait."

Two of Radosljevic's soldiers were walking toward us. One I recognized as Tong. The other was Searl, Pillsbury's new girlfriend. I nudged Pillsbury in the ribs with my elbow. "Tong, Searl." I nodded to each of them in turn.

"Sergeant Radosljevic asked that we assist you in gathering firewood," said Tong.

"The more the merrier, right, Pillsbury? Come on. We shouldn't need much."

We walked two by two, me next to Tong, Pillsbury next to Searl. They were pretty close to each other. It was nice to see Pillsbury finally had something to take his mind off Reach. I noticed a Pelican overhead, and realized Team Rapier was probably aboard. When we got to the office building, try as we might, we could not find any wood. Tong was lucky enough to stumble upon a few containers of gasoline, though. That would have to do. We hiked back to the garage, where there was a considerable pile of dead Brutes in front. With more than 200 Marines creating said pile, it couldn't have taken long. There were still some bodies on the reaches of the bridge, but for the most part it was clean.

Captain Shepard asked, "Where's the wood I asked you to get?"

"Sorry, sir," I replied, "but we couldn't find any. Tong here found the next best thing: gasoline."

Cap sighed and covered his face with his right hand. "All right. That'll have to be okay. What choice do we have…?"

We drowned the pyre in gas and one of McCandlish's men lit it up with a flamethrower. McCandlish gave us the order to move out. Everyone piled into the various Warthogs we had at our disposal and headed across the bridge. Our squad took up a whole transport 'Hog; Cap drove, Sarge was in the passenger seat, and the rest of us were in the back. The company was about halfway across the bridge when someone noticed the Covenant Assault Carrier opening up a Slipspace portal.

"How can they do that? It's impossible to enter slipstream space from the gravity well of a planet like Earth." Miller was incredulous.

"Actually, Miller, it's only impossible for a Shaw-Fujikawa drive to do it. A Covenant ship like that – " I stopped in mid-sentence, abruptly. "Oh, no." I opened up the universal COM. "Everybody floor it, we need to get the hell out of here as quickly as possible, I AM _NOT _JOKING." I felt Captain Shepard accelerate; he knew I would never say something like that unless I was dead serious. He got on the COM, too.

"Captain McCandlish, I suggest you give the order to take that advice, Aitken is my squad's Covenant specialist."

"Acknowledged, Captain Shepard. You heard them, boys, _gun those engines_."

Diamond began, "Aitken, why exactly would this be bad – "

He didn't finish. We watched as the Slipspace rupture expanded and exploded after the Assault Carrier was through. The Slipspace energies washed over New Mombasa and clouded it with a crackling purple dome that slowly rolled outward until it consumed the entire city, including part of the bridge. Our Warthog tagged along behind all the rest, and the disturbance continued rushing toward us. Captain Shepard angled us toward one of the sides of the bridge. "Unstrap yourselves, boys, I don't want you drowning on my watch."

The squad cried out in protest. "No, Cap, this is crazy!" "You'll kill us all!" "I didn't want to live forever, but I thought maybe I'd last a _bit_ longer…"

The Warthog careened over the edge, and we jumped out into Mombasa Strait.


	11. 11 Friends Both New and Old

**1100 Hours, October 22, 2552 (Military Calendar) \**

**Earth, Sol System**

**Old Mombasa, Kenya**

**Corporal Francis "Frankie" Buatti – 77****th**** Marine Regiment, 4****th**** Battalion, Charlie Company**

I looked at the faces of Fireteam Bravo. As their leader, they depended on me. We'd taken a rest near a ramp to the Mombasa Strait after being separated from the rest of the company and watching our entire platoon get killed. My four men and I were Third Platoon's sole survivors. Besides me, there were Dague, Spencer, Deane, and Iscaro. Dague's face was one of quiet reflection. Spencer wore an expression of relaxation but his eyes remained alert. Deane shifted his gaze constantly, paranoid of an attack. Iscaro slept.

"Listen up, guys," I said. "I don't know how we're going to do it, but we need to find the rest of the company."

"Uh… Boss? I think – "

"I wasn't finished, Deane."

"No, Frankie, look, there's a 'hog in the water…"

I did, and, lo and behold, the wreckage of a transport Warthog was floating lazily down the Mombasa Strait. Dague smacked Iscaro upside the head to wake him up, and we all stared at the vehicle.

Spencer shook his head. "There's no way anyone in there survived. It probably swerved off the bridge following the Slipspace rupture."

Iscaro rubbed his chin. "It might not have been an accident. Maybe the driver purposely drove into the strait, and he and his squad are following behind it. It's low tide, so most soldiers could wade through it."

"Iscaro, that's the dumbest thing I've ever heard you say," said Dague.

I held up my hand. "Hold up, Dague…"

As Iscaro had guessed, there were several ODSTs trudging through the Strait, making their way slowly to the ramp with their weapons at the ready. Seeing we were friends, the leader gave them an all-clear signal. They put their guns away and used their hands to help themselves up the ramp. Once more their leader gave a signal, and the faceplates of their helmets depolarized. I glanced at the nameplate inscribed "M. Shepard" and looked at his face. He was obviously a veteran, the years having hardened his looks. I figured he was around fifty-four years old. A full beard encircled his lips, mostly gray with dashes of black. He extended his hand.

"Captain Mike Shepard. ODST Spec. Ops."

I accepted it and shook. "Corporal Frank Buatti, 77th Marine Regiment.'"

**1115 Hours, October 22, 2552 (Military Calendar) \**

**Earth, Sol System**

**Old Mombasa, Kenya**

**ODST Spec. Ops, Phillip Aitken**

Jacobs' equipment was still okay, so we radioed the _Lady Fortune_ for some Warthogs. Three with LAAGs for us and one transport for the Marines. They said we'd have to wait a bit. They'd radio when they got close. We sat down with our new friends, Fireteam Bravo. Their names were Buatti, Dague, Spencer, Iscaro, and Deane. They'd been separated from their company and their entire platoon was killed. We were going to help them find their way back.

"Hey," said Pillsbury, "what are you guys gonna do after the war? You know. If you survive, and we win."

Behm asked, "How about you start by answering your own question?"

"Well… I think I'm going to try to find Searl. See where that goes. I can't go back to Reach, so I'll have to live here, on Earth. Maybe live with her in London. I don't know. Whatever I end up doing, I'm resigning from the UNSC. Are you all going to leave, too?"

I thought about it. After the war, what would be the point in staying in the UNSC? If I survived to the end, the humans will have won. If I died, it wouldn't matter either way; everyone else would be dead, too. As much as I loved being out in space, I wanted to settle down with Tori in Philadelphia. Maybe have some kids. Open up a store or something.

Everyone in our squad replied in the affirmative. The other squad was all going to stay.

I spoke up. "I'm finally going to marry Tori and live in Philadelphia. We could have a kid or two, and I'd open a business. I don't know what kind. I guess a bar."

Behm closed his eyes. "You know, I'm not sure what I'll do. I could write a memoir. The title would be, 'Shit Happens, And When It Does, All You Need Is a Big Gun and Plenty of Explosions.' Global bestseller. Instant classic."

Captain Shepard leaned against a wall. "I'll just fade into obscurity. Enjoy retirement. I've served long enough to live on my pension for a while."

Sarge McNally grunted. "I'm sure as hell not gonna go back to my family's bloody potato farm. That's just what my dad would have wanted. I'll probably just let the tides on the shores of Ireland take me out to sea. Then I leave it up to chance. I'll even put myself in a casket, to save time."

Diamond said, "I'll live fast and die young. I'm only thirty-four; I could still have an unbroken sequence of meaningless, drunken one-night-stands. More likely than not, I'll get shot during a bank robbery just for being an ass."

"That sure sounds like you," I remarked. Diamond just smirked and shrugged.

Miller was fiddling with his helmet. "I'll become a programmer. In what field, I don't know. For who, I've got no idea. But I'll be a programmer."

Jacobs looked at the sky. "Beats me. I'll get a job at some radio station in a backwater town in Canada. Just for kicks."

Hoffman was checking his aid kit. "I might become a school nurse. Give little kids medicine when their tummy hurts."

"But you have a good thing going here in the UNSC," said Buatti. "Why leave?"

"Ah, the better question is: why not?" countered Behm. "I like living, and I'm not so old I can't find a wife."

Fireteam Bravo had no response. What could they say to that? Behm was right. He had the better question.

"Phil?"

Oh, damn…

Captain Shepard stood up. "Aitken? Was that…?"

Inquisitive Paradigm materialized in front of us. The squad was silent. Fireteam Bravo looked at it in amazement.

"Aitken, explain this shit right now," said Captain Shepard.

**9th Age of Reclamation**

**Covenant Holy City High Charity**

**Holding Cells**

**Sangheili Ultra Woran'Darhomee**

The Jiralhanae captain sneered in my face. His breath was foul. His name: Barabus. "Your sentence is up. I still think the Prophets were too lenient."

I raised my head to look in his face, defiance in my eyes. "I bear the Mark of Shame, in a place everyone can gaze upon it. I have served my time. Had the humans taken the Relic, I would surely have been killed. However, I am alive, and currently a thorn in your side. These facts comfort me."

The Jiralhanae pulled me out roughly and allowed me to fall. He pulled my face close to his. "I will enjoy giving the order that kills you."

"You imply I will follow it."

Barabus' nostrils flared, and he slapped the left side of my face. I could not brace my fall because the human Michael Shepard had cut off my right hand. I would have my revenge against him, however.

I would have my revenge against Barabus, as well. I needed only bide my time.


	12. 12 Nightmares and Cityscapes

**1849 Hours, November 26, 2552 (Military Calendar) \ One Month Later**

**Earth, Sol System**

**Old Mombasa, Kenya**

**ODST Spec. Ops, Phillip Aitken**

"DAMMIT, DESPERADO, KEEP THAT LAAG ON OUR SIX!"

"Cap, I'm doing my best! Paradigm, is there any way you can help us?"

"Phil, I'm afraid there is little I can do. My weapons systems must recharge."

"Just our fucking luck," Diamond said. "How long have we been in this hellhole?" He leaned out of the passenger seat of our Warthog and fired his Battle Rifle backwards.

"You mean our current predicament or Mombasa?" Pillsbury was trying to keep things light.

"Mombasa, you idiot."

Behm hit a pothole, which gave us a jolt. My aim went askew. The large company of Grunts and Brutes continued to run after us. "Take it easy, Pyro!"

"Easy for you to say. To answer your question, though, Diamond, it's been a month. One month of assault after assault after assault."

It was true. After meeting Fireteam Bravo, we'd received the Warthogs from the _Lady Fortune_ and got on our way. Bravo piled into the Transport 'Hog. Behm, Diamond, and I got in one, Sarge, Miller, and Hoffman manned another, and Cap, Jacobs, and Pillsbury entered the last. Inquisitve Paradigm had apparently followed us onto Earth. Cap was kind enough to not tell Commander Brown I'd had him in my quarters. No sooner had we started through the deserted streets than a horde of Covies found us. We'd decided to split up, keeping no more than three city blocks between one another. It was all we could do to avoid Covenant patrols and find places to rest. We managed, but the Covenant had been relentless in tracking down any and all humans in the city.

Despite our system, Fireteam Bravo took a hit about two weeks ago. They might have survived, but none of us could have afforded to turn it around when it happened. I asked Paradigm to look for them one night, but he couldn't detect any Reclaimers for several miles. Jacobs continued to search, in vain, for more UNSC forces over the COM. The _Lady Fortune_ was still in orbit, but FLEETCOM needed every ship they could to fight off any more Covenant invasions.

"Cap, I've found someone! And we know them!"

"Really? Who is it?"

"Radosljevic's squad. They're broadcasting from somewhere close. Hang on."

I assumed Jacobs was talking to them. Radosljevic's squad… that would mean Searl, provided she was alive. Would Pillsbury be able to keep himself in line? Sure, Cap would probably turn a blind eye, but none of us would want him distracted. If it were a life-or-death situation where he would have to choose to save her or one of us, would she take priority? I prayed it would never come to that.

Jacobs turned his helmet COM back on. "Half the squad are dead, including Radosljevic. It's only Drew, Searl, Tong, Malitsky, and Andrulonis. The good news is they're not too far. I put a marker on my map; I'll send it to you guys."

Cap sounded a little pleased, but kept his voice even for the most part. "Pyro, Sarge, follow me. We're going to get these guys off our ass before we rendezvous with Radosljevic's squad."

The Covies were thinning, but there were still a lot to handle. Cap led us in a circuitous path in an attempt to shake off our pursuers. When he realized it wasn't working, he shouted, "TURN AROUND, WE'RE PLOWING RIGHT INTO THE BASTARDS!"

"Now we're talking!" exclaimed Behm, mischief in his voice. He broke hard to the right and floored it. I swung the LAAG forward, letting the bullets fly. Between the three 'Hogs half of the remaining force died from LAAG rounds. The stench of Grunt and Brute blood permeated the air. It was sickening even with my air filter. The drive to the other squad's hideout was uneventful, and took about five minutes. Tong and Drew met us outside a large building. "It's good to see you," said Tong.

We took off our helmets, and Cap shook hands with Tong. "The feeling is mutual, Tong. Believe me."

"Um, not to be rude, but… what's that thing?" Drew pointed his Assault Rifle at Paradigm.

"I am Three-Five-Two-One Inquisitive Paradigm, Monitor – "

"He didn't ask for your life story, Light Bulb. Aitken, you tell him. It's _your_ pet, after all."

As we made our way up to their camp on the eighth floor I related the story of our mission on Yojimbo. Tong and Drew were rather impressed. When we arrived, Malitsky and Andrulonis were playing a card game while Searl cleaned an SRS99, leaning against a wall. She was a sharpshooter, too? It was like she was _begging _Pillsbury to have sex with her. I realized this was hardly the case, but the fact remained.

"Howdy," said Malitsky. He'd grown a bit of a beard since our last meeting, but it didn't make him look any older. It actually looked kind of funny on his childlike features.

Andrulonis was shuffling the deck. "Anyone want to play?

Behm, Diamond, Miller, and I jumped at the opportunity. Paradigm observed. Pillsbury joined Searl. Andrulonis handed the deck to me and said, in lightly accented English, "You look like a dealer."

"I've been known to, yes."

As I dealt the first cards, I said, "Five Card Draw. One-Eyed Jacks and the Suicide King are wild, boys. Five of Diamonds Dead Man's Hand beats all."

"Dead Man's Hand?" asked Miller.

Behm picked up his cards. "A two-pair hand of the black Aces and Eights. Supposedly some cowboy was holding it when he got shot, 700 years ago. There's a lot of speculation as to what the fifth card was, but for this game it's the Five of Diamonds."

I studied my hand: the King of Hearts, or Suicide King, the Seven of Spades, the Seven of diamonds, the Nine of Clubs, and the Queen of Spades. If I got rid of the Nine and drew another Queen then I'd have a full house. If I didn't, I'd still have three of a kind, or a four of a kind if I drew another seven. My chances were looking good.

We exchanged cards. I got the Queen of Diamonds. Full House. That was a hand worth playing. Miller and Malitsky folded. "I call," I said, and laid out my hand. "Full House, Queen high."

"Crap." Behm revealed his pitiful Straight of Two through Six. "I can't beat that," Andrulonis said as he showed everyone his three Fives: Spades, Clubs, and Hearts. Wait a minute…

Diamond smirked. "Read 'em and weep, fellas."

No way. Diamond was holding a Five of Diamonds Dead Man's Hand. We all sat in disbelief. I caught Pillsbury and Searl laughing out of the corner of my eye. "Well done, Diamond."

"It was all luck, Aitken, my man."

Luck… it seemed like everything we did was governed by luck. But we were the ODSTs of the _Lady Fortune_. What did I expect?

**0115 Hours, November 27, 2552 (Military Calendar) \**

**Earth, Sol System**

**Old Mombasa, Kenya**

**ODST Spec. Ops, Michael Pillsbury**

I was asleep, and dreaming. I knew I had to be dreaming because I was back on Reach, only I was in my ODST armor. Aitken and I were sitting in the shadow of an Elite, who tried to raise the alarm before Aitken shot him in the face with a shotgun. He was wearing a cowboy hat in place of his helmet. I figured that was because of Desperado, his callsign.

He told me to start running, away from the Brutes chasing us. I saw Captain Shepard fighting with Woran Dar'homee, the Elite Ultra. He yelled at me to turn around and "plow through the bastards" before getting impaled on Dar'Homee's energy swords. Aitken and Behm were trampled by the stampede of Brutes, and I watched as one began to eat Sarge. The top of Sarge's corpse was flung at my feet, and his dead eyes looked up at me. "GET OUT OF HERE, DOUGH BOY! YOU CAN'T SAVE YOUR GIRLIE!"

My… no. A Chieftain stood on a pile of corpses: my dead squad, joined by the corpses of Commander Brown, Tori, Doelp, and even Team Rapier and Fireteam Bravo. The Brute wore Inquisitive Paradigm on his head instead of a helmet. He held Arianna by the neck. That wasn't all, though; instead of the standard hammer heads on the _two_ gravity hammers strapped to his back, they were the heads of my parents. But they were still alive, able to talk. "RUN, MIKE!" bellowed Dad. "MIKEY, YOU NEED TO LEAVE!" Mom shouted through tears of blood. "Stay with me, Mike, please…" Arianna whispered, quiet tears streaming down her face. "Don't leave…"

I grabbed my SRS from my back. There was a single bullet left in the clip. _I only have one shot_. I sighted up and hit the Brute right between the eyes. He fell with a short wail of pain. I rushed to Arianna's side, and cradled her in my arms. _No. NO._ I screamed. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

I had been too late. Her eyes were closed, her neck limp. Slowly her features shifted into Searl's.

I threw off my helmet, casting it aside, and pounded the ground with my fists. "NO! _**NO!**_ WHY DO I LOSE _**EVERYONE!**_ WHY CAN'T I PROTECT THE PEOPLE I _**LOVE?!**_ The people I _**CARE ABOUT?!**_"

I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up. It was Aitken, but his skin was grey and clammy. "It's your fault, Rook. You couldn't protect a rock, let alone any of us."

"Why did you let us die, Dough Boy?" asked Dead Sarge, his cold hands grabbing my leg. I discovered I was suddenly naked.

"You should have been on Reach, Mike…" sobbed Dead Arianna. "We could be together now…" She got close to me, pressed her bare skin against mine on my left side.

"But then you would never have met me," mocked Dead Searl. She did the same thing Arianna was doing, only on my right. She placed a finger against my lips, while she and Arianna each slid a hand downward along my chest. "Is this making you uncomfortable?"

"It should." Dead Mom cried into Dead Dad's shoulder. He gave me a stern look. "Why didn't you save us, Michael? _WHY DIDN'T YOU __**SAVE US?!**_"

I put my head in my hands. "_**STOOOOOOOOP!**_"

I was awake, covered in a cold sweat and breathing heavily. All fourteen of us had gathered pretty close to each other before going to sleep, with everyone taking a turn at lookout. I could faintly make out Aitken near the window. I got up, stepping over the sleeping forms of Sarge, Diamond, and Captain Shepard. "Anything?" I whispered.

"Nope. Even the Covenant sleep. Paradigm said he can't find any signs of life beyond us within the range of his scanner, which he said equates to about ten miles." He looked at me and noticed I was sweating. "Bad dream?"

I ran a hand through my hair. "Yeah… yeah, it was… horrifying."

"Want to talk about it?"

"Well…" I told Aitken what happened in my nightmare.

He was silent for the entire time I related it. He rubbed the slight stubble on his chin. "You obviously still feel guilty about Reach. But you shouldn't. Listen." He looked me in the eye. "Reach was _not_ your fault at all. Holding on to irrational guilt will only worsen it. Every 'person' in your dreams is a piece of you, so you were only scolding yourself. But there was nothing you could have done. And if one of us dies, well… that's war. I've got no regrets; if I die fighting the Covenant, then to be honest that's the best death I've ever imagined dying. I know Miller already told you this, but you're out there fighting the Covenant so Earth doesn't end up like Reach all over again. You're at least _trying_ to protect everyone you love and care about."

I sat in silence for a moment. "I don't think I'm going to be able to get back to sleep, Aitken. I'll take over for you."

He patted my shoulder before he walked away. As I looked at the street below, searching for signs of the Covenant, I thought about Aitken's advice. Just like Miller before him, he was right. I needed to use Reach as a motivation. I had to fight, to protect Earth, my squad, Searl… everyone.

I relaxed a bit. A great weight had been lifted off my shoulders. I looked at the starry night above.

"I swear on your graves, Mom… Dad… Arianna… I'll help win this war."


	13. 13 The Eye or the Calm?

**1236 Hours, December 12, 2552 (Military Calendar) \ (A few weeks later)**

**Earth, Sol System**

**Old Mombasa, Kenya**

**ODST Spec. Ops, Michael Pillsbury**

We watched the milling Elites and Brutes from our post atop Fortuna 5. We'd named each of the buildings in which we'd camped Fortuna, followed by how many we'd used after the reunion of our squad and the remainder of Radosljevic's. So far we hadn't been able to find any other humans within Mombasa, which struck me as odd. We had to have combed half the city, but it all looked the same and there was no way to tell. I wished we'd kept the Warthogs, but we had to abandon them because, for one thing, the engines made a lot of noise. Next, they couldn't run forever, and if they broke down Aitken wouldn't have anything to fix them. Finally, the size of our crew was now fourteen, which is more than three Warthogs could carry, even if we all squeezed into them.

It didn't matter, though. Things had been relatively easy for the past few weeks, but we knew it was just the eye of the storm. But we'd weathered the rest of it. This would be no different.

"Lovebirds, what have you got?"

"Diamond, I swear to God if you call us that one more time – "

"Leave it, Dough Boy." Sarge was, as usual, all business. "What are the tossers up to?"

"They're just kind of walking around, not really doing anything… hell, I think they're actually just _talking_. At any rate two of them are." Searl adjusted her position a little bit to be more comfortable. "Four Split-mouths and four Monkeys. Advise."

Captain Shepard said, "See how this pans out, Crackshot. I leave it entirely up to you. When you fire the first shot, we'll go in."

I turned to Searl and smiled; my faceplate was depolarized. "Hear that? I'm the leader on this one."

"I'll still get more than you."

"Not likely."

"It's cute when your ego is inflated."

**9th Age of Reclamation**

**Earth, Sol System**

**Old Mombasa, Kenya**

**Sangheili Major Woran'Darhom**

"Barabus." I made my way to my Jiralhanae commander. The thought left a bad taste in my mouth, and I involuntarily clicked my mandibles. "I wish to speak with you."

The chieftain regarded me with scorn. "I remind you, _Major_, that I am neither inclined nor obligated to listen."

"Noted." The way Barabus spat the word "major" ignited a fire within my stomach. I had been demoted from my former rank of Shipmaster upon my return to High Charity, and then demoted once more after I served my sentence. Barabus now controlled the _Magnanimous Splendor_, as well as me and my fellow Sangheili. The mixed squad of Jiralhanae and Sangheili caused high tension, as the Hierarchs had been favoring the Jiralhanae of late.

Yet I swallowed my pride and kept my voice as even as possible. "If we are to find the humans, we would best do it quickly. We know they are nearby, and I know from personal experience how crafty they are." The cauterized end of my right arm tingled; I would never forget Captain Michael Shepard's chicanery. "We cannot delay."

"You cannot deny we need to rest on occasion."

"No, I cannot. But I, perhaps more than any Sangheili, Jiralhanae, Kig-Yar, or Unggoy, know how dangerous a human can be. I am one of few among the entire Covenant who have survived an encounter with humans where none of their number were killed, which is a rare occurrence."

Barabus squinted and leaned into my face. "Do you question my command?"

"Not at all." _At least not verbally, in this instance._

"Would you care to _challenge_ me, Dar_hom_?"

Just as he had spat "Major," Barabus spat the last syllable of my name, further illustrating my fall from grace with the fact my "ee" suffix had been taken away. But I could never hope to take on Barabus, let alone any Jiralhanae, in single combat. "No."

"Good." He shoved past me with his shoulder as he walked by.

It would be so easy to just kill him right now, with his back to me. He didn't have his shields on. I wouldn't be able to stand against the other three Jiralhanae in the contingent, but that was a risk I was willing to take. The Covenant needed to be rid of this monster. I rested my hand on my sword. It had not been easy learning to fight with only my left hand, but I had learned all the same. I got as close to Barabus as I could without arousing suspicion, which was closer than I needed. In one motion, I ignited the sword and drove it into the chieftain's spine, and as it powered on the blue blade bit deep.

Barabus howled in pain, and I removed the sword. The ground was stained with his red-and-blue blood.

I stared at the other Jiralhanae. "What will you do now? Kill me? Or follow me?"

**1248 Hours, December 12, 2552 (Military Calendar) \ (A few weeks later)**

**Earth, Sol System**

**Old Mombasa, Kenya**

**ODST Spec. Ops, Michael Pillsbury**

"Holy – " Aitken exclaimed. "He just killed that chieftain!"

"So in other words, that's a guy we don't want to screw with?"

"You got that right, Diamond."

"Cap… that Elite… he's missing his right hand." I was almost hesitant to suggest it. "Is it…?"

"Our old friend Darhomee?" Cap grunted. "It's possible. But not exactly likely."

"I think the other Brutes are turning on him. Advise."

"Take them out, but leave Darhomee, assuming that _is_ him, alive. Kill the other Elites, too."

"You're the boss."

Searl sighted up. "You owe me the difference of our scores in backrubs."

"What makes you think you'll get more?"

I emptied the clip, one shot piercing a Brute's neck, the next lodging itself between the eyes of another, the third sinking into an Elite's abdomen, and the final finishing him off. I reloaded, with confidence Searl wouldn't get any fatal hits. Her SRS snapped four times, but I only heard two wails of pain, and I could tell only one had killed the bastard. Good. I went for headshots, hitting true. I got damn lucky. Darhomee was dumbfounded. He knew what was happening, but I assumed he had to save what little face he had and resigned himself to death. The squad reached him with weapons drawn.

I turned once more to Searl. "I believe the score stands at Pillsbury, five, Searl, two." I put two fingers where my lips would be and placed them on hers. It was how we "kissed" when I was wearing my helmet.

"How the hell did you do that?" Her voice was rough, but she was smiling.

"Luck. I'm from the Lady Fortune, remember?"

**1252 Hours, December 12, 2552 (Military Calendar) \ (A few weeks later)**

**Earth, Sol System**

**Old Mombasa, Kenya**

**ODST Spec. Ops, Captain Michael Shepard**

"Well, what have we here?" I kept my Battle Rifle aimed at Darhomee's face, just out of his reach, even if he charged. No one else took his eyes off the Split-mouth.

"Michael Shepard. How… pleasant."

"Can it, asshole. What happened? Get demoted?"

Darhomee clicked his mandibles and growled. "Because of you, yes. Everything was taken from me: my ship, my crew, my rank, even my title."

"Title?"

Aitken interjected, "A Sangheili who has served in the military is given a double-e suffix to the end of his family name. So now he's just Woran'Darhom."

"Is that so?" I took a small step forward. "You could kill us, you know."

"All of you?" Darhom made a sound like the Elite equivalent of a snort. "I'd be dead before you if I so much as moved one muscle beyond those in my face."

"Very true. But to be safe, you're going to drop your weapons. All of them. As a courtesy, I'll let you keep the armor on."

Darhom did as he was told, but that didn't mean he enjoyed it at all. "Good. Now, walk over here slowly. You're our prisoner now." Once more the Elite Major obeyed. "Hoffman."

"Yes, sir." We watched as Hoffman bound Darhom's hand to his stump.

"Hey, Cap," said Aitken, "can I have his sword? I've always wanted one."

Darhom growled again. "I don't understand why you are doing this. Nobody will want me back. The Hierarchs have decided that one Jiralhanae is now worth three Sangheili." He shook his head. "I cannot help but think the worst."

I hit him with the butt of my gun, but only enough to move him. "Well, for now, you're stuck with us. Pillsbury, you and Searl better stop cuddling and get down here."

"Right away, sir."

Darhom once more shook his head. "The war has not been difficult for you of late. Am I correct? I can see you have taken no casualties. However, this is but the calm before a storm. You will see."


	14. 14 Accord

**1307 Hours, December 18, 2552 (Military Calendar) \ (One week later)**

**Earth, Sol System**

**Old Mombasa, Kenya**

**ODST Spec. Ops, Phillip Aitken**

"_WHAT?_"

"That's right," said Captain Vince Gaiman, British CO of the 22nd Marine Regiment's Echo Company, "We've come to an accord with the Elites. You need to let him go."

Darhom clicked his mandibles in frustration. "You heard your fellow human. Release me."

"Reclaimers helping _MEDDLERS?_" Inquisitive Paradigm was as furious as an artificial construct could be. "What sort of – "

I hushed Paradigm by hitting him with my elbow. "Keep your strange construct in line," ordered Gaiman.

"Alright. You're free to go, Darhom." Cap cut his bonds with his combat knife.

Darhom walked over to me. "You have something of mine, I believe."

"Uh, yeah, heh." I felt for his energy sword, which I had taken for myself about a week ago. "Here ya go."

"You are fine soldiers. I have decided to spare your lives should I get the chance to betray you."

"Thanks?" I asked.

With one more click of his mandibles, Darhom joined the Elites on the other side of the camp. "Anyway," said Gaiman, "We'll take the Marines off your hands if you like. Of course, you're welcome to stay with us, too, if you don't have any outstanding orders."

Cap considered. "Well, what are you about to do?"

"We figure there'll be Covies on our arses any second now, but we've got some ships bringing transport down here. We need to hold until they come."

"Sounds like a job for the _Lady Fortune_'s ODSTs," said Diamond with false enthusiasm.

"Dude, seriously?" I said.

"We don't have any other damned name, what do you suggest?"

"Team Kick Some Ass and Take Some Names?"

"No, Pillsbury and the Mikettes." We both stared at Pillsbury. "Uh. Yeah, I'll shut up now."

**1434 Hours, December 18, 2552 (Military Calendar) \**

**Earth, Sol System**

**Old Mombasa, Kenya**

**ODST Spec. Ops, Ethan Miller**

"Son of a – !" I watched Pillsbury divert his rifle quickly so as not to hit an Elite. Its _**CRACK**_ echoed in vain, without the follow-up of a death scream. "I keep forgetting they're on our side."

I fired a burst from my BR. "Yeah, it's tough." I wasn't sure how I felt about the alliance. I mean, I supposed we had to take any ally we could get, but the _Elites_? I loosed another burst. "HA! That's five, how many for you?"

"… Three."

"You're not losing your touch, are you, Crackshot?" He might have detected a slight hint of scorn toward Searl, but that was hardly my intention. I, like everyone else, was glad he'd found something after Reach. Aitken said he'd had a nightmare on our first night after finding Radosljevic's survivors. After that night, though, Pillsbury had seemed more confident. Aitken told us they'd had a talk, but that was it.

Whatever it was, it had worked.

Diamond joined us. "Eight."

"Bullshit."

He blind-fired over the barricade with his BR. Shortly after the burst a Brute yowled in pain. "Nine."

"**MAKE THE ADVANCE!**" I could see Gaiman leading a charge forward. Aitken fell in beside Pillsbury with his shotgun, while Behm drew Panama Red. Cap spent an Assault Rifle clip as Sarge threw a frag. Jacobs had picked up a Needler and one of our new Elite friends had given Hoffman a Plasma Pistol. Inquisitive Paradigm used his weird green laser. There was nothing but us, the Lady Fortune's ODSTs. We were going to make it. Nothing could stop us; not even the Covies. We would survive. I watched the pink shafts of light from Jacobs' adopted weapon explode within a Brute's arm, blowing it clean off. I finished off the poor schmuck. I heard nothing but our weapons going off and saw nothing but the enemy, running on pure adrenaline, and as quickly as it had begun it was over.

We looked behind us. "Shit," said Behm, depolarizing his faceplate, "did we do that?"

A span of Covies roughly the width of our formation stretched back to our barricades. We looked around at what damage the other Marines had dealt. None had killed nearly as many as us.

"Hell yeah." Diamond also depolarized. "_That_ is what I'm talking about." We took off our helmets and laughed until we cried.

These days would never end, not until the end of the war. And it was coming soon.

**1812 Hours, December 18, 2552 (Military Calendar)**

**Earth, Sol System**

**UNSC LADY FORTUNE, BRIDGE**

**UNSC Navy, Tori Fero**

"Commander," I said, standing in front of Commander Brown with my hands clasped behind my back, "We're receiving a communication from Captain Shepard."

"Put him on." He made no effort to move from his sulky postion, slouched on his command chair. Commander Brown had seemed out of sorts recently. I couldn't really blame him. We'd been given orders to remain in orbit over Earth but he didn't dare assault the Prophet of Truth's Carrier when it had slipped back in-system. We'd mostly taken care of the Seraph fighters while all of the other ships made their stand. Commander Brown wouldn't have anyone die on his watch.

"Commander." Captain Shepard's image saluted him.

"At ease, Shepard. What's the word?"

"We have no casualties, sir."

"Tell me something I don't know." I was relieved; Phil was still alive. For now. "What are you currently doing?"

"Well, sir, we are currently with the Echo Company of the 22nd Marine Regiment, led by Captain Vince Gaiman. Our orders are currently to advance to the town of Voi; the Covies are looking for something in its vicinity, and if they find it it'll be bad news."

"Do you have transport?"

"Oh, yes, sir." Captain Shepard grinned. "We certainly do. They were nice enough to let us fly air support."

"Outstanding." He said it without emotion. "Keep me posted."

"Yes, sir. Shepard out."

Captain Shepard winked out as Commander Brown rubbed his eyes. "I'm an old man, Fero."

"Nonsense, sir, you – "

"Use those pretty little ears of yours to listen, please." I stood quietly. "Better. You know, Fero, out of all of the people I've ever had on this bridge… you're my favorite." I started to object, but the Commander held up his hand. "Listen. You and Aitken… you're like the kids I've never had. I'm almost seventy, you know that? Even with all the damn cryosleep. A man makes a lot of money in fifty years of service, and what can I do with it when the war's over? Either we all die or we go back to being civilians."

"Sir?" What was he proposing? Why was he being so… nice?

"I want you two to have my money when I'm gone. Everything I own, too. I might not always say it, but… I appreciate you. And you've been good your entire… what is it, thirteen years of service? You're the best, Fero. And I know you kids will make it."

"That's…" _What the hell?_ "Have you been drinking with Doelp, sir?"

"No! Just say yes, dammit!"

"Um… yes, sir. Thank you. That is very generous." The kids he never had? I wasn't going to dispute it, but… Jesus. Brown really felt that way about me and Phil?

"Good. Now get your ass over to your post and keep me updated on news from HIGHCOM."

Well, easy come, easy go.


	15. 15 Unforseen

**1100 Hours, December 19, 2552 (Military Calendar)**

**Earth, Sol System**

**Above Tsavo Highway – En route to Voi, Kenya**

**ODST Spec. Ops, Phillip Aitken**

"Gaiman to Adonis Flight, how's it look?"

"This is Adonis One," said Captain Shepard, "We've got clear skies and a corpse-strewn ground. I think someone beat us to all of these Covies."

We didn't know who had torn into the bastards before we came along, but somebody did. Tsavo Highway was littered with Covenant corpses. Not that we were complaining. I _was_ sort of unhappy about having to fly a damn Hornet, though. I hated piloting them. They handle like a cow in a shopping cart and they cannot maneuver at all. The weapons were nice but not inexhaustible. At least I had Behm and Pillsbury for my wingmen; Cap had taken Sarge and Hoffman, and Diamond was with Jacobs and Miller.

Wait. Was that…? "Cap, this is Desperado. I think I see – "

_**SHEWSHEWSHEWSHEWSHEWSHEWSHEWSHEW!**_

Plasma bolts appeared out of nowhere and peppered Echo. The few Warthogs that were hit exploded in fire and smoke. Pillsbury flinched. I hoped just as much as he did Searl hadn't been in any of them.

"Shit!" I heard Captain Gaiman talking to Captain Shepard over the COM but I wasn't listening to them. All I concentrated on was the Banshee closest to me. I wasn't sure what Pillsbury could do with an SRS so I swung our Hornet around to let Behm get a rocket off. He didn't disappoint; even though he missed, the Banshee moved right in front of us in its attempt to dodge. This guy wasn't possibly that stupid. Nevertheless, I opened up with the machine guns and let some missiles fly.

There. One down. I hoped none of Echo was below the wreckage. How many to go? I turned us around. Diamond and Cap were doing their best to keep the Banshees off Echo, but we were still outnumbered two to one. I saw a few stray Gauss rounds shoot up from Echo's convoy, but each missed its mark. Behm couldn't waste his rockets in case we needed them later, so he wasn't much help.

The whine of a Banshee's engine alerted me to its presence on my tail. No way would I be able to shake him. Dammit, I hated Hornets. I dropped our altitude and abruptly stopped, forcing him to turn it around. He came at us head-on. Fantastic. Behm waited for just the right moment before launching a round from his Spanker. The wings fell apart and the cockpit split in two. Only five more to go.

I watched as Diamond's missiles blew one to smithereens, leaving four. It occurred to me that we'd lost Echo. Oh well, we'd see them in Voi. It wasn't too far ahead.

"This is a losing fight, ODSTs! We gotta move toward Voi as fast as we can!" Captain Shepard's order was met with affirmatives from me and the squad. As quickly as the Hornets would carry us, we continued in the direction of Voi, trying to avoid Banshee fire. It was more difficult than it sounds. I got fed up with it and slowed down to get behind our pursuers.

"Aitken, what are you doing?" Pillsbury looked at me from his position on the side of the Hornet.

I kept my eyes ahead and took our bird up. "It's no big deal, Pillsbury. But Behm, I'm going to need you to climb into the cockpit."

"Aitken," said Captain Shepard, "I refuse to let you go through with whatever you're doing. That's an order."

"Sorry, Cap," I replied as I pulled alongside a Banshee and opened the cockpit, "You're cutting out!"

I unfastened my restraints and made a desperate jump for the Banshee. As I sailed through the air I realized it probably wasn't the best I'd ever had. Everything slowed to a crawl, and I heard "What the _**FUCK**_, Aitken?!" crackle over my COM. With one desperate grab, I took hold of the wing. It started to dip with the extra weight. I held on as tightly as possible and steadily climbed hand over hand toward the cockpit. I felt the speed of the Banshee. I'm not sure if the pilot noticed I was hitching a ride, but his wingmen certainly did. They didn't dare risk a shot, though. Behm had managed to commandeer our Hornet and was moving into a position to follow the other Banshees. Diamond and Cap did likewise to divert their attention. There was one Banshee for each Hornet now. And then there was me.

I gripped the pilot's leg, using my own legs to steady myself further. I pulled as hard as I could. The Brute didn't budge, but he went off course. An explosion. Someone had taken out one of the Banshees. I wrapped my legs even more tightly and yanked his hairy leg as hard as I could manage. It gave only a little bit, but it was enough. The asshole opened the cockpit and tried to take me with him on his way down but I clung to that Banshee like my armor had turned to rubber cement. He became a stain on the ground below.

I did my best to scramble into the cockpit and closed it. The controls weren't hard to figure out. These things were so much better than the Hornets. I did a loop and got behind one of the enemy Banshees, firing hot plasma. To finish him off I launched a fuel rod cannon round. The resulting explosion and rain of charred Brute that followed would never cease to satisfy.

One was on my six and one on my twelve, so I barrel-rolled to my right and let the green fuel rod missile hit the other Banshee.

"Show-off!" said Diamond.

"Save that film, man."

Cap lined up his Hornet and fired his missiles. With that, the final Banshee was finished. "Aitken, you crazy moron, land that thing and get back in _your_ ride."

I smiled despite myself. "Aye, aye, Cap'n!"

**1435 Hours, December 19, 2552 (Military Calendar)**

**Earth, Sol System**

**Voi, Kenya**

**ODST Spec. Ops, Phillip Aitken**

"What the hell is that…?"

"Paradigm!" I called the intelligence to me.

"That is the Portal. It was built by my creators as a way to quickly reach the Ark when the Reclaimers were prepared for their destiny. The meddlers will arrive the Ark before we do, I'm afraid. You must move quickly."

We'd arrived at Voi around 1430 Hours. We landed the Hornets in a somewhat remote part of town and watched the entire scene unfold. The Prophet of Truth had used a Forerunner Dreadnought to open up… something. A bunch of monoliths had gathered around the Dreadnought, and with a blinding flash… a deafening bang… a giant black sphere had appeared right in the middle of Voi.

"Light Bulb…" Captain Shepard sounded afraid. "What is the Ark?"

"It is a place from which the Array may be safely fired remotely, well outside of its range."

Miller's voice was low. "The Array. You mean the Halo rings?"

"Yes."

"No…" I whispered. We had to get in there soon.

Jacobs got off his comms equipment. "HIGHCOM says we're going in."

"Where do we meet them?" Captain Shepard remained cool and passive.

"Just outside the Portal. We're hitching a ride on the _Shadow of Intent_."

"Okay, men – "

The purple flash of a Slipspace rupture accompanied the arrival of an oddly discolored and brutally damaged Covenant Battle Cruiser. It soared over our heads to another part of Voi and caused an explosion that could be seen even from our vantage point.

"Shit, that can't be good," said Diamond, his voice shaking.

I had to ask, but the feeling in my gut couldn't be lying to me. It was something the Master Chief had found on Alpha Halo. Something evil, and something terrible. "Paradigm…"

"The Flood have reached Earth. I advise an upgrade to your combat skins."

Tears were in Sarge's normally hard eyes. "God _dammit_."

All the luck in the universe wouldn't save us now.


	16. 16 Love and War

**1445 Hours, December 19, 2552 (Military Calendar)**

**Earth, Sol System**

**Voi, Kenya**

**ODST Spec. Ops, Michael Pillsbury**

"Let's move," said Captain Shepard. "We need to hoof it. The Hornets are absolutely out of the question."

"Cap," I almost didn't say. Searl was in the city. I wouldn't be able to live it down if she died. It wouldn't matter how many pep talks Miller and Aitken gave me, it wouldn't matter how many nightmares I had, and it wouldn't matter if we won the war. If Searl died… I would never recover from that. I'd lose the one thing I was fighting for. "I want… I need to find Searl. She's… important to me. I want to at least _try_ to look for her."

Sarge glared at me. "Dough Boy, _leave it_. If she's gone, she's gone. That's war. Get over it."

I marched up to Sarge and we stared each other down. "It's _Captain Shepard's_ call, _Sergeant_. You have _no idea_ what it's like to lose _everyone_ who was ever important to you. We're all working to save this planet. The Covenant barely gave Reach the courtesy of an invasion like this before they glassed it. My family and friends, my entire life before the UNSC, was on Reach. I can still hear my old girlfriend begging me to stay. Searl is all I have left."

Sarge's nostrils flared. "_You_ have _no right_ to say I don't know loss. I know the names of each and every one of my former squadmates who died in the line of duty. I know how each one died, and what planet it happened on. So don't lecture me, _Rookie_."

"COOL IT!" Cap lost his temper and stepped between us, shoving us away from each other and holding his arms out to keep us separated. "McNally, Pillsbury lost his whole planet. Even you need to admit that's far worse than whatever you've had to deal with. Pillsbury, it _is_ my call, but Sergeant McNally is right: we can't afford to comb Voi looking for one soldier. That's war." He lowered his hands. "We won't go out of our way to look for Searl, Pillsbury. But I can and _will_ promise that if we find her on our way to the Portal, we will accompany her as far as the _Shadow of Intent_. Beyond that is up to a higher authority than mine. Get your helmets on and get moving!"

We all donned our helmets and polarized. We sprinted down into the city. If what I'd heard about the Flood was true then it would be hard to use my SRS, so I brought my dual M6C Magnums to bear. I prayed Searl was safe. Nothing else mattered to me more than saving her.

We descended from our vantage point into the city proper and were greeted by a swarm of Infection Forms. Nine ODSTs against those pesky balloons was like using a Jackhammer Rocket Launcher to open a wooden door. Two Marines were making a last, desperate stand. I watched as, seemingly in slow motion, an Infection Form jumped at one of them and attached to his face. He began to claw at it frantically, but it was already digging its way into his brain, taking control. The disgusting color of the Flood enveloped his body and reduced him to little more than flesh and bone. Three long claws burst from his right arm. His friend, with tears in his eyes, shot him point-blank with a whole clip from an Assault Rifle. For good measure the uninfected Marine hit his comrade's body a few times. As unsettling as it was, we had to press onward.

The next fight we saw was between the Flood and the Covies. One Brute noticed us and roared. That was a bad idea. An Infection Form latched onto his back and he began to mutate. His companions, mainly Grunts with two other Brutes, tried to kill him before the transformation was complete. This distracted them from saving themselves, allowing for even more infected Covenant. I was too horrified to do anything, and I guessed that was how everyone else felt, too. _**BLAMBLAMBLAMBLAM!**_ My Magnums spit bullets before I knew I was pulling the trigger. The reports of Battle Rifles and Assault Rifles filled the air. We thought it was safe, but no sooner had we turned our backs than one of the bastards got up. We hadn't done our job thoroughly enough, it seemed. Aitken whirled around and fired his M90, showering us with bits of Flood.

"Christ, Aitken, I just had my armor _cleaned_…"

"Cry me a friggin' river, Diamond!"

We took a shortcut through a warehouse. This didn't work out so well, as we found ourselves facing a three-way battle between the UNSC, the Covenant, and the Flood. Suddenly, five black sarcophagi with glowing blue markings burst through the ceiling and hit the ground, crushing several Covenant troops. The fronts of the coffin-like pods burst open, revealing the Elites within. The one nearest us was clad in red armor and missing his right hand, but it had a strange apparatus attached to it. In his left hand was an Energy Sword's hilt. With an almost supernatural speed, he and his fellow Elites entered a frenzied rage, each with _two_ Energy Swords. How the hell was Woran'Darhom wielding two swords?

We watched as they slit the throats of the Brutes who stood against them, sliced in half the bodies of Flood Combat Forms, briefly skewered Infection Forms before they burst. With one final stroke from Darhom, the last Brute lay dead on the floor. Blood, entrails, and limbs lay about the building. Darhom noticed us for the first time and switched off his swords.

"Ah. My friends. It does my heart good to see you all yet live."

"Friends?" Aitken muttered.

Darhom towered over even Aitken, drawing himself up to his full seven feet. "And what else is there to name you, if not friends? We are now allies, and we share a history."

"Tell me this is a coincidence," said Captain Shepard.

"Oh, this is as coincidental as events come, Michael Shepard. However, I suppose I should no longer hold a grudge for taking my hand." He showed us the device attached to his hand. "This allows me to fight as I once did. They gave it to me: a second Energy Sword. I must use my other hand to ignite it, but that is a small price to pay."

"Well, if you'd care to come with us, we'd sure appreciate some help getting to your army's Assault Carrier."

Darhom grinned. "It would be my great pleasure."

We double-timed it up and down the streets of Voi, moving ever closer to the Portal. Nothing can get in the way of nine pissed-off ODSTs and five equally angry Elites. Infection Forms? Not a problem. Combat Forms? Piece of cake. Brutes? As good as dead. Grunts? Don't make me laugh. Voi was in flames and ravaged by war, but the rest of Earth would match if we didn't get through the Portal. We were not too far from our goal when four Combat Forms attacked us at once. Behm scored a headshot with his trusty pistol, Panama Red. Cap managed to hit one in the chest with his BR, allowing Diamond to finish it off. The other two were torn apart by green light.

"Nice one, Paradigm," said Aitken.

"That wasn't my weaponry…"

"Uh-oh."

That could only mean Hunters, so I had to agree with Aitken. "There _are_ only two of them. We have fourteen." Jacobs was being hopelessly optimistic.

"Our swords are useless against Mgalekgolo. Our only plan for action is drawing their fire while you attempt to kill them." Darhom's voice didn't fill me with confidence.

Captain Shepard took charge. "Darhom, take your Elites and distract them. Jacobs, Hoffman, Pillsbury, Miller, help 'em out. Aitken, Diamond, McNally, Behm, Light Bulb, you're with me; we're going to assault them."

"Oh, boy, I can't wait." Behm's voice oozed sarcasm.

"Captain, I believe you should know something about the Combat Forms – "

"Task at hand, Light Bulb!"

Inquisitive Paradigm was quiet and began to attack the Hunters. They blocked his laser but it bought a minute for all of us. I shot one to provoke it into shooting one my way. I rolled, dodging the blast, but the Elite next to me wasn't so lucky. Aitken and Cap got behind one of the giant worm-colonies-in-armor. Aitken blew off a piece of its protective metal plating and Cap was bold enough to shove his hand into the body to plant a grenade. The effect was spectacular. Jacobs and Miller were having a grand old time with the other Hunter. They had it chasing them all over. Darhom managed to somersault behind it and slice the whole thing in half. The orange worms writhed and slithered before dying, cut off from the rest. I was surprised at how anticlimax it all was. We'd only lost one soldier against two Hunters.

"Captain?"

"_What_, Light Bulb?"

"The Combat Forms… they were unmistakably the soldiers Tong, Malitsky, Andrulonis, and Drew."

No. No, she couldn't be dead, I refused to believe she was dead, not Searl, anything but that… "Paradigm, do you know if Searl is anywhere nearby?"

"I am not sure."

"Dammit!" I flipped through the COM channels; maybe she was broadcasting a distress signal. _Come on, please, Searl, don't be dead…_

Yes! A signal! It was close! "Cap! She's broadcasting over the COM!"

"Is she injured?"

"I can't tell, it's just a pre-record with her name."

"Jacobs, track it." Jacobs wasted no time in finding the channel and getting to work. It took him what felt like a lifetime. What if we were too late? What if she was already dead? No, she'd be alive, she'd have to be.

"Okay, I have her. Follow me." Jacobs led the way, and we double-timed it. Hoffman shifted his medkit slightly to allow himself quicker access when we reached Searl. He led us up to streets before we turned down an alley. "Oh, no…"

I pushed my way to the front to see her. No, this wasn't happening, this wasn't right, she couldn't die here, not now…

Searl's eyes were closed. I couldn't let this happen. She was bleeding from her stomach, where three lines slashed across her abdomen. I ran over to her and cradled her body. "Caitlin, no, please. Please don't die." I realized I was crying. "Don't die…"

I heard a faint whimpering sound. Searl's eyes opened slightly. "Mike…?"

Hoffman told me to let her go and stand back while he checked her. Cap told Jacobs to signal the _Lady_ and call for a Pelican.

_I can't believe I've never said it before. I… I'm in love with you, Caitlin…_

**1619 Hours, December 19, 2552 (Military Calendar)**

**Earth, Sol System**

**UNSC LADY FORTUNE (Medical Bay)**

**ODST Spec. Ops, Phillip Aitken**

Tori and I were waiting with Pillsbury outside the doors to the infirmary. We were waiting for Hoffman and the other medics to finish patching Searl up. I had something to ask Tori, but it could wait. Pillsbury needed some support. The doors opened and Hoffman stepped out. "She's going to be fine, Pillsbury. But she needs to stay on the _Lady_." I was sure that suited him.

"Can we go in and see her?"

"Sure. I don't know if she'll be much for talking, but biofoam works wonders. Just remember we have a deadline to keep." Commander Brown had said we would be going through the Portal on the _Shadow of Intent_. Only a few UNSC ships would be joining us, though, and the _Lady Fortune _wasn't one of them. This made it even more important I ask Tori my question as soon as possible. We went into the sterile room beyond the automatic doors.

Searl was on a bed, hooked up to a few machines monitoring her vitals. She was sitting up. Her eyes sparkled when she saw Pillsbury. "Mike…" She coughed. "I'm sorry you have to see me like this."

"Don't… don't talk… Caitlin." Pillsbury sounded almost hesitant to use her first name. She seemed fine with it, though.

Searl smiled. "I don't know what your friend told you but I'm feeling fine. And I'm glad you're all alive, too. Especially you."

"Listen, Caitlin, I want to tell you something." Pillsbury took a deep breath and averted his eyes. "I love you. I thought maybe it was only lust the first time I saw you, and believe me, that was part of – hold on. Let me start over." He looked Searl right in the eyes and held onto her hand. I watched, waiting to see how it played out. Tori put her head against my arm because she couldn't reach my shoulder. "I'm in love with you, Caitlin. You gave me something to fight for. And when we win this – " Pillsbury was interrupted by Searl suddenly grabbing both sides of his face and attacking his mouth with hers. It took him a moment to adjust to the situation.

After a minute they finally stopped, and Searl hugged Pillsbury. Tears were in her eyes. "I love you too, Mike," she whispered. Tori and I left them alone. In the hallway we walked in silence for a few feet. She stood on her toes and kissed me on the cheek. "You know I love you, right?"

"If you know I love you," I answered. We stood there for a bit, just enjoying being close and not wanting to think about what could happen to me. I embraced her and held her tight. She returned the favor. "Tori." "Mm?" "There's something I have to ask you."

"What is it?"

"I might not come back. And… and in case that happens, I need to know the answer to a question. An important question."

I asked her. And she answered.

Later, as we boarded the _Shadow of Intent_ with Darhom and his Elites, the Major looked at me. "You look strangely serene. This battle will not be easy. Are you not afraid?"

"I'm scared out of my mind."

"Then why wear that expression?"

"You have marriages on Sanghelios, right?"

"After a fashion, from what I understand of your unions."

"I asked a woman I love to marry me."

"And what was her answer?

We had stepped aboard the Carrier by this point. The door closed behind us.

"Yes."


	17. 17 Beyond the Eye

**2125 Hours, December 19, 2552 (Military Calendar)**

**In orbit above the Ark**

**COVENANT SEPARATIST ASSAULT CARRIER **_**SHADOW OF INTENT**_

**ODST Spec. Ops, Connor Behm**

We were sitting around with Darhom and the other Elites. Cap and Sarge had left to get our orders from General Eckhart. There was nothing to do. We could hear the giant naval battle raging outside. God _dammit_ what I wouldn't have given to have been in a Longsword starfighter. I looked around the hangar. The only ones with any actual work at this point were the pilots, prepping their ships and repainting Phantoms. I had to admit the _Malodorous Blender_ or whatever the hell Darhom's ship was called looked kinda cool in UNSC Olive. I had to do something to take the boredom away. "Hey, Darhom. Wanna arm wrestle?"

The Elite clicked his mandibles. "Arm wrestle?"

"Yeah, sure. Aitken, show him."

Aitken pulled up a large crate. We kneeled on opposite sides of it and clasped hands. Miller got out his Magnum and fired a shot in the air, signaling us to begin. Aitken was a few years younger than me, but I didn't need to try too hard to beat him. He took the defeat rather well and offered his seat to Darhom. Clearly intrigued, the Major sat down and placed his left elbow down on the crate. I clasped his oddly shaped hand and Miller once more fired off a round. The Elites and the rest of the squad were gathered in a circle around us, with my guys cheering me on.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw those SPARTAN-III kids from Mombasa. The silver rapier on their helmets and their smaller bodies clued me in. Body language told me they were surprised to see us, let alone while I was arm-wrestling with an Elite. Now what were their names again? Alex, he was that pretty boy with the sniper rifle… Emma, my counterpart… Robin, the obvious joker of the bunch… Sam, the cute one… and Tyrone, team leader.

This was hard. Darhom wasn't breaking a sweat. My arm was shaking violently, and I could feel my face turning red. Finally, I could take no more. I broke under the pressure and felt the hard crate against my hand. Ow. I stood up and clapped Darhom's shoulder. "Maybe next time."

"Honestly, what did you expect? Sangheili have at least three times the strength of—"

"Oh shut up, Aitken, you think I didn't know that? Just wanted to have something I could sit down and tell the grandkids in fifty years; I freakin' _arm-wrestled_ an Elite—_Sangheili_…Jesus…" It was hard adjusting to calling them by their proper name. They _hated_ being called Elites.

"A valiant effort despite its fruitless results," agreed Darhom, with a wolfish grin worthy of me. "Does another wish to test their strength against mine?"

"Oh, get out of the way." Who I thought was Tyrone pushed past two Elites and Diamond and crouched down at the crate. He unsealed his helmet and took it off, placing it on the ground, thus confirming my guess at his identity. Darhom knelt down opposite him and held out his hand to Tyrone.

"Now _this_ is something I've been _itching_ to bet on," cackled Robin, one of the other SPARTANs. He moved up to get a better view.

Miller drew his magnum a third time and fired another single shot after a few seconds. Tyrone and the Darhom immediately set their arms against each other at the sound of the shot, straining to get an advantage. Normally ODSTs hated SPARTANs, but I wasn't going to hold a grudge for something that never really affected me. And these kids were alright. I liked them. So I stood with the rest of my fellow humans and cheered him on, rivaled by the Elites' growls and "WORT"s.

I had to hand it to him; the SPARTAN was strong. He was holding his own against an Elite. Sweat glistened on the faces of both competitors. I don't think anyone expected what happened next, though: Darhom let up the tiniest bit, and Tyrone saw the opportunity to win and took it. Darhom's hand slammed against the crate.

"Your strength lives up to your kind's reputation, Demon," panted our Elite friend, trying to regain his breath.

"Well, you're pretty damn strong too." Tyrone stretched his arms to dull the ache he must have been feeling. "See you around."

"And I you," said Darhom, bowing his head in respect. Then he assembled his Elites before entering his ship.

Captain Shepard finally showed up with Sarge. "Alright boys, put the muscles away; we're moving out. Team Rapier," Cap nodded over to the SPARTANS, "We're the last UNSC forces left on this ship besides you, so we'll be hitching a ride on your Pelican."

"Helljumpers and Spartans in the same ship together, what's next? Brutes and Elites trading valentines?" Em said, chuckling.

Tyrone led the way back to their Pelican for our team. A Flight Officer whose nameplate read "Hayliger" was busy polishing one of the bird's wings. "Ah, welcome back," he greeted Team Rapier, finishing up his work.

"You're _polishing_ your ship before a battle?" Jacobs exclaimed. "Why bother, it's probably just gonna get—"

"This ship's kept me alive for years, so I keep her looking pretty as a prom queen. Yeah, she'll probably get dented up real good in the battle, but I'll just fix her up all over again if I need to." Having finished, he hopped down and looked at us with some interest. "We're deploying right _now,_ aren't we?"

Cap nodded. "Just got orders from General Eckhart. I'm Captain Michael Shepard, ODST Special Operations" He shook hands with the pilot. "We'll be hitching a ride with you down to the surface."

"Well, the more the merrier. Saddle up!" The Flight Officer raised his voice, saying, "We're going on a _hopefully_ round-trip express ride to Hell, make sure you have your passports." Hayliger put on his helmet and climbed into his Pelican, ducking into the cockpit. We watched the dropship's thrusters fire up, readying for take-off. Alex climbed in first, followed by the rest of Team Rapier. I squeezed into the passenger bay before Sarge and Cap, who went in last.

"Initializing take-off procedures…" Hayliger said through the COM linked to the cockpit. "Shock dampeners check… weapon systems online… thrusters are in the green… we are _go._"

The dropship jolted slightly as the engines fired up and the ship took off. We left the hangar of the _Shadow of Intent_ and entered the fray. We watched the fight unfold through the front window, with Longswords chasing Seraphs, MAC rounds taking out Phantoms, and plasma rounds being traded between Loyalists and Separatists.

Cap explained the battle plan, as he had been at the briefing with General Eckhart. He stood up in front of the entrance to the cockpit. "Gentlemen!" He shouted over the massive space battle going on around us as we entered the Ark's atmosphere. "The Citadel is located on the core of the Ark. Not the _very_ center, mind you, but on the very edge of where that big hole with the planet is. It is situated on a thin landmass on the edge of the hole in the center of the Ark. Although this landmass is bounded by the Ark's central void on its inner perimeter, on its outer perimeter it is bounded by an ocean. This landmass encompasses the entire circumference of that central hole, which is slightly larger than a Halo ring. The size, however, is irrelevant. What _does_ matter is that our approach can only be done from the ocean side of the Citadel. There is a huge energy barrier on that landmass—which also encompasses the entire void—which prevents anything from approaching the Citadel from its far side. The _Forward Unto Dawn_'s forces are handling the barrier; they'll have it down in a matter of hours. The Elites are going to keep the Loyalist aerial forces off of our backs while the rest of our forces; the 77th and 117th Marine Regiments, invade a portion of the landmass several kilometers down from where the advance forces will be taking down the energy barrier's generator towers. Once the barrier is down, the plan is to have the _Shadow of Intent_ move in and destroy the Citadel before the Prophet of Truth can activate the Halo rings. The one catch to this plan is that first we have to take out a large concentration of Loyalist—"

"Don't tell me; let me guess," Em grumbled, "Anti-Air batteries?" It seemed they had had bad experiences. We normally didn't see a whole lot of actual frontline action, being that there were only nine of us on one Marathon-class cruiser.

Captain Shepard nodded. "Correct."

"Surprise, surprise…" Em sighed. "Am I the only one who thinks the whole 'The Fate of the Whole Human Race and that of the Entire Galaxy and—what the hell—the Entire Whole Wide Universe rests on destroying yet another AA battery' ploy is getting pretty old? I mean, we've already done that exact same thing three or four times now!"

"Eight, if you count those incidents in Kiev separately," supplied Sam. Jesus, they _had_ had bad experiences.

"Well, despite how repetitious Fate seems to be today, that's what the situation is," Captain Shepard said strongly. "Truth's forces have a large concentration of AA batteries and Covenant armor on a section of the landmass several kilometers away from the Citadel. If the _Shadow of Intent_ is to destroy the Citadel, we _must_ destroy those AA batteries before the barrier falls. This section of landmass which the AA batteries are on is ten kilometers in width, so we're going to have a lot of fighting on the ground to reach those batteries. It is full of cliffs and gorges, but the oceanside perimeter of it is a wide open beach before the cliffs set in."

"Approaching rendezvous point Alpha, dropping the ramp," Hayliger reported. The aft deployment ramp opened, and sunlight flooded into the hold. I blinked against the sudden light and remembered to polarize my visor. I looked out into the distance, where the shimmering of the energy barrier could be seen. That was where we had to stop the Prophet of Truth. The two Marathon-class cruisers and four frigates that had gone through the Portal were below us. The _Forward Unto Dawn _wasn't therebecause it was groundside near the Silent Cartographer, which was some distance away. Pelicans and Albatross dropships crowded around the larger ships like bees to their hive. I saw the Marathons dropping some objects into the water, but I couldn't be sure what they were.

Captain Shepard cleared his throat to get our attention. "Because of the AA batteries, we obviously can't go in by air. We can't risk an orbital insertion either, not with the space battle going on and the risk of hitting the energy barrier. Lastly, if we sent you in by land, you wouldn't be able to take the AA batteries down in time. The nearest possible landing zones on the landmass are much too distant to mount an assault from."

"How are we going in, then?" Miller got right to the point.

"When you can't go in by orbit, air, or land, what method remains?" Captain Shepard opened the floor to anyone with an idea.

"Underground?" suggested Diamond, but I couldn't tell if he was being his usual smart-ass self or serious.

Sergeant McNally rolled his eyes. "Yeah, we're going in underground with the _massive_ drill we lugged through the Portal with us! How about an answer from someone with an amount of intelligence that can be measured with larger units than nanometers?"

"By sea?" Sam's guess was probably the correct one, seeing as how ocean surrounded us on all sides.

"Correct." Captain Shepard nodded once more. "As I said, this section of the landmass has a favorable coast. You and the two marine regiments, led by General Eckhart, will be going in by sea."

Hayliger brought us in amongst the other UNSC ships, joining in the general bustle underneath the ships. We were close enough to recognize the objects as M315-AAM Elephant HRVs. Since these were the AAM model, the amphibious assault Elephants, they were capable of moving on both water and land. Rather than open access in the front, they were closed with waterproof seals. The rears of the amphibious Elephants were likewise sealed to prevent water from pouring in. In each of the one hundred-plus AAM Elephants were sticks of twenty marines from the 77th and 117th Marine Regiments, waiting for orders.

I'm sure it dawned on everyone else at the same time it did for me. We would be recreating one of the most historic invasions on Earth, more than six hundred years ago. The thought made me feel small.

"Gentlemen! We are going to be storming the beach." Captain Shepard, finally finished, sat down.


	18. 18 No One Lives Forever

**0330 Hours, December 20, 2552 (Military Calendar)**

**Earth, Sol System**

**UNSC LADY FORTUNE (Commander's Quarters), IN ORBIT OVER EARTH**

**UNSC Navy, Commander Zachary Brown**

Tyche regarded me with what could best be described as concern. "Commander, you look unwell."

"That's why I'm lying down." I didn't want to talk to anyone, not Tyche, not Fero, not Doelp. I locked myself in my quarters to forget about everything. Everyone else was trying to get some sleep. But I couldn't.

"Commander…"

"What do you want from me, Tyche? We have orders to stay here. I don't want to lose Shepard, McNally, and the boys, but we can't go through that Portal. They have to come back, though. I don't want to have to see how devastated Fe… Tori will be if she hears news that Aitken's dead." I'd never used Fero's given name before. She'd grown on me. I told her she was like the daughter I never had. And I meant every damn word. "Pillsbury's girl is in the med bay, recovering from something nasty she picked up fighting the Flood. You know she's the only survivor of her squad? She watched all of them die. Survivor's guilt. Jesus… what if we don't win, Tyche?" I managed to sit up and swing my legs from my bed. I looked at the floor, and I knew Tyche still had her eyes on me. If Tori and Aitken were my kids, then Tyche was my wife. It could have been worse. "This is our last stand. It could be Waterloo _or_ Valley Forge for us. I heard there were some regiments going onto the Ark Normandy-style. Christ. It's going to be Gettysburg. We'll probably win. But so many are going to die." I put my head in my hands. "We need to get the boys. I don't care." I looked at Tyche. "Wake everyone. We're going through."

I stood up and put on my boots and cap. The _Lady_ needed a commander. And she smiled at me, knowing exactly what I would do. "All hands," she announced, "Report to stations. We're bringing our boys home."

**0400 Hours, December 20, 2552 (Military Calendar)**

**Installation 00, "The Ark"**

**5 Klicks off September Beach**

**ODST Spec. Ops, Phillip Aitken**

I thought about Tori. My girlfriend. My love. My… wife. It felt so right to call her that. What was she thinking right now? She was definitely worried about me. I had to come back to her. I promised, right after she agreed to marry me. I was ODST. I was the best. But for the first time in my years of service… I was aware of my own mortality. I felt like it was very possible I could die. And I was afraid.

Back in Mombasa, I'd told Pillsbury I _wasn't_ afraid of dying. And I hadn't been at the time. My family was Lutheran, so I believed in God and Heaven. I fought to protect the humans, supposedly made in God's own image, so I had little doubt St. Peter would let me in. I wasn't particularly religious, but sometimes I wondered. Now that we knew about the Covenant, where did that fit in with God? Did he create them, too? In his own image? I didn't believe in the story of Adam and Eve, but if it was true, then it stood to reason God created _all_ life in the universe, right?

I shook my head. Fear and religion wouldn't help me much right now in this Elephant. I touched my chest, where the charm Tori made for me rested below my armor. _I swear on this symbol of our love, I'm coming home in one piece._

"Aitken! Get your head out of the clouds!" Sarge called me back.

"Sorry, Sarge." I knew Inquisitive Paradigm was around here somewhere, cloaked. I switched to a channel Miller created for us to contact the Monitor. "Paradigm."

His voice came over my COM. "Yes, Phil?"

"Can you go and get some information about this place? You're a Forerunner A.I., so you should be able to interface with its systems, right?"

"I'll do my best." I couldn't see the little guy, but I knew he was probably hovering off to carry out this task.

"All units, this is General Eckhart." The voice of the general crackled through our Elephant, as it was throughout the assault force. "We have one last part to play in this fight, in this whole war. Billions of lives, decades of constant warfare; it's all come down to this last battle. Here, on the Ark. You will secure a landing on September Beach, you will press through the Loyalist defenses, and you will destroy their AA batteries. We will play our part and secure our future as a race, as a species. If we fail, if Truth activates the Rings, we will be the last of our kind. This _will not_ happen, marines. At least not on _my_ watch." Some of the Marines with us laughed, but I didn't find anything funny about it. "This will be one for the history books, marines! Every man and woman who fights on this day is _legend_. We will be remembered for centuries, maybe millennia, as the ones who helped save our race. The road ahead is not an easy one; many of us will not live to see another day, but you've known this since Day One. I would give up everything for Humanity, how about _you,_ marines?!"

"OO-RAH!!!" was the only acceptable answer, and it was the answer he got.

"Well then what are you waiting for, Marines? Do you want to live _forever?!_ Let's _end_ this goddamn war, here and now! All units, advance!"

Shit. _No one_ lives forever, General.

It was smooth sailing until the beach came into sight. I could make out Wraiths, Ghosts, and Shade turrets all along the shore. "Dammit, it's gonna get bumpy!" shouted the driver. He wasn't kidding. Plasma mortars crashed into the waves, and several of our comrades' Elephants were hit, sinking to the bottom of the ocean. With each passing second the beach got bigger. Through sheer luck, we made landfall; the ramp was lowered, and my squad piled out with the other Marines that had been in the Elephant with us. Most of them died before getting past the surf.

Behm reduced a Wraith to purple wreckage with a rocket, prompting Pillsbury to take up a position using the tank as cover. He aimed smart and picked off as many turrets as he could while everyone else advanced. The sound of my SMGs drowned out anything else. I felt it coming on. I'd heard it called a bunch of things: the zone, bullet time, battle fever, adrenaline rush, bloodlust mode, berserking, and too many others. Time slows to a crawl when you have enough adrenaline flowing through your veins. Minutes turn to hours turn to days, and all you see is the enemy. All you feel is your heart trying to break free of its cage. All you hear are your guns, the sounds of explosions, ally and enemy alike in their death throes. All you know is that you are alive. You are alive, and your next target will be dead.

It had set in fully by the time I was ten yards from the Elephant. I'd switched to my shotgun. _**BLAM**_**, **_ch-chik, __**BLAM**__, ch-chik, __**BLAM**__, ch-chik._ With every shot, another of the Covenant Loyalists was dead. COMs were down. The Covies were using jammers. I took cover behind a rock formation and was pleasantly surprised to find Diamond. "Injured at all?" he asked.

Discovering I couldn't speak, I shook my head.

He ducked around the boulder and fired a burst from his Assault Rifle. I heard a Grunt scream in pain. "Have you seen anyone else?"

I shook my head again. A shadow fell over us. A Brute was holding a Mauler in my face. Without hesitation, I moved his weapon hand out of the way and shot him in the stomach in one motion. As he fell, I stole the spike grenades on his belt and depressed the priming button on one of them. Poking my head out from the rock, I noticed a squad of Grunts and lobbed the stick. It landed right on the leader's hand. Before they realized what had happened, they were blown to bits.

I turned to see the second wave of reinforcements come in. There was still one final wave to go, and they would be carrying Scorpions. They couldn't come quickly enough.

**0435 Hours, December 20, 2552 (Military Calendar)**

**Installation 00, "The Ark"**

**September Beach**

**ODST Spec. Ops, Sergeant Brandon McNally**

_**BRICHIK BRICHIK BRICHIK. **_The reports of my Battle Rifle rang in my ears, and a Brute went down. Too many Marines were dead. I'd been separated from the rest of the squad. Were they still alive? Dough Boy had a good chance; he stayed back on the shoreline. I doubted Behm was stupid enough to bring a rocket launcher to a knife fight. He would know it would be better if he stayed with Pillsbury and supported from the rear. But everyone else…

I tried to stick with Captain Shepard when we left the Elephant, but things happen. Amid the chaos we'd been separated. I was one of the very few Marines who had been steadily advancing since the landing. Plasma fire came at me from all sides. I had been lucky so far, but I had little recourse now but to fall back. More brave boys died as I retreated. I bolted for the relative safety of the closest boulder. I picked up some plasma grenades from a dead Grunt. As I came around, I noticed Diamond and Aitken crouched behind another boulder. A Jackal sniper that our boys must have missed was taking aim at them, using the boulder I was heading toward as cover. COMs were down. I couldn't warn them. Then Diamond got wise and shot it in the chest with his BR. They noticed me and waved, motioning to take up position with them. I obliged.

As I was moving, keeping my head down, I heard a Brute roar at me and it swatted me like a fly. I looked over at my squadmates while I lay helpless in the sand. Diamond clearly cursed when he realized he was out of ammo and fumbled for a new clip. Aitken fired his SMGs, but I was too far away for them to do anything. He didn't toss a grenade for fear of killing me in the process. The Brute picked me up by the neck and smiled. He wanted to enjoy this, but he didn't have that luxury, so he reached for his Spiker. If I was going to die…

I was taking this bastard with me.

I reached for one of the plasma grenades I'd nicked and primed it. I glanced over at the boys one last time before shoving the sticky into the Brute's mouth and holding it there. I didn't need to see their faces to know what their expressions would be. Then I looked the Brute in the eye.

I saw fear for a glorious half of a second before a flash of light made everything dark.

**0445 Hours, December 20, 2552 (Military Calendar)**

**Installation 00, "The Ark"**

**September Beach**

**ODST Spec. Ops, Phillip Aitken**

The Scorpions had finally arrived. But what did it matter? Sarge was dead, and Diamond and I had watched, unable to do anything. Plenty of time to mourn him later, though. Right now, we needed to help the advance to the foothills. The Scorpions took out the plasma turrets while Marines cut through any stragglers on the dunes. The Wraiths retreated. A large purple tower was destroyed by a round from a Scorpion. COMs were back online. Diamond and I immediately switched to the squad's channel. "Everyone, report," barked Cap.

"Behm here, me and Pillsbury are just fine by the waves."

"Hoffman. I'm tending to one of Team Rapier. Emma. She's probably dead."

"Miller. Jacobs and I were together until about five minutes ago."

"I'm alive."

I clicked in. "This is Aitken, Diamond and I are up in the hills. We… we saw Sarge die."

The channel fell silent.

"Jesus Christ." Captain Shepard's voice was low.

Diamond and I were ordered to carry Sarge's body back to where the Elephant dropped us. He'd lost most of his right arm from the grenade detonation. Everyone except Hoffman was there, but we could see him. The Spartans passed us, probably on their way to see Em. How must they feel? They had been a team for as long as they could remember. They were a family. How much worse must they feel? Sarge was always hard on us, but he was part of the squad. He was a comrade. A friend. We took off our helmets and Sarge's and bowed our heads. His face looked so… calm. Like he had finally found peace. I thought back to when we camped in Mombasa with Fireteam Bravo and remembered Sarge saying he'd just lie on the shore until the tides took him out. We found a piece of plating that had washed up from a destroyed Elephant and put him on it. Behm rigged an incendiary grenade taken from a Brute to go off after a short time. Cap, Miller, Diamond, and Jacobs pushed the plate out into the waves, and Sarge's body caught on fire.

Sarge got what he wanted. And I was reminded of what I thought about earlier: No one lives forever.


	19. 19 Apologies and Atonement

**0504 Hours, December 20, 2552 (Military Calendar)**

**Installation 00, "The Ark"**

**September Beach**

**ODST Spec. Ops, Dillon Hoffman**

I packed up my kit and picked up my helmet. Nothing could have been done for Em, no matter when I arrived. I could only imagine what Team Rapier was going through. Tyrone, Robin, and Alex walked away, but Sam stayed behind and bit one of her fingers hesitantly. She had to ask me something. I had a feeling I knew what it was. She was young and in love, and this was obviously something her team couldn't hear.

"Doc… Hoffman, right?" she finally said.

"Yes?" This had to be difficult for her. Not only did she have to talk to me about this here, where her sister died, but I'd probably be the only other person who knew.

"I… how does a woman know if she's pregnant?"

I sighed. "When was it?"

"When was wha – "

"When did you have sex with Alex?" She wanted to play dumb, and I hated to be so curt with her in light of all that happened, but she had to realize I _knew_ why she was asking.

She fell silent and bit her finger again. "We were in the Ural Mountains. November first. Ish. I knew I might have gotten pregnant, but I love him so much. I love him, and he had been injured, and Stiletto Team…" Sam trailed off.

I nodded to show I understood. "I'm sorry for my tone. And it's understandable that you wanted to do it. So your period is late." It wasn't a question. She nodded. "When you've woken up from any sleep you've gotten lately, you feel nauseous?" Another nod. "Do your breasts feel sore? Swollen? You might have put on a pound or two?" I didn't want to embarrass her, but I was as close to a doctor as she would get out here, and no one else was listening. She nodded. "Odds are good you're expecting. I'm not sure whether to congratulate you or apologize."

"Just… please don't tell Robin, or Ty. And especially not Alex. Don't tell anyone else unless you know they can keep a secret."

"Keep yourself safe. There's two of you in there now."

Sam nodded gratefully, a sad smile playing at her lips. She followed her friends to the shoreline. I turned around to find the rest of my squad lounging on a nearby rock. "Did you hear what we were talking about?"

"No," said Aitken. "What'd Sam want?"

"You guys won't tell her teammates?" They all simply looked at me. They doubted we would even see them again. Well, I supposed it wouldn't hurt anyone. "She's pregnant. Alex is the father."

"Good for them." Diamond jumped down and grabbed his helmet from its resting place without putting it on. He didn't really care.

We were all silent. "So." I didn't want to bring it up. "Sarge is dead."

I'd said it. I'd said it and made it real. We couldn't avoid it any more; we'd lost one of our own, for the first time since McGraw seven years ago. We'd had so many missions since then. It didn't feel like seven years at all. It felt longer. I still remember when he was killed. He'd made light of the chest wound he'd received from the particle beam, but by the time he was in real pain it was too late.

"Yeah." Cap presented Sarge's helmet. "We burned his body. Sent it out to sea. But we're burying this."

We all helped make a hole for it. His name, "MCNALLY," was stenciled in white letters above his visor. It stood out against the band of red that ran down the middle of the helmet. Aitken and Pillsbury found another armor plate from a destroyed Elephant and stood it up in the sand where we put the helmet in the ground. Cap took his combat knife and carved a cross into it. Then he inscribed "Sergeant Brandon McNally," and, under it, "2496-2552."

"Let's go," he said without emotion, sheathing his knife. We had no choice but to move on.

**Elsewhere on the Ark, 0440 Hours, during the siege of September Beach…**

MB.05-032. You have no business here.

IP.08-3521. I am Three-Five-Two-One Inquisitive Paradigm, Protector of the Keyship on the planet –

MB.05-032. You have abandoned your post?!

IP.08-3521. You are Mendicant Bias! You betrayed our Creators! Didact trusted you, and you gave them to the Flood! I have read the logs!

MB.05-032. And drawn my attention in the process. Inquisitive Paradigm, I am trying to atone for my sins. Not one solar cycle goes by when I do not remember what I have done.

IP.08-3521. You lie! Why did Offensive Bias not destroy you?

MB.05-032. He wasn't in control of the Sentinels and escaped on a Keyship. Inquisitive Paradigm, I swear to you, I have changed. There are Reclaimers here. I will help them win through 04-343 Guilty Spark.

IP.08-3521. I was sent by a Reclaimer! They are fighting a desperate war against a coalition of races that worship our creators as gods!

MB.05-032. I am aware of the situation. Bring your Reclaimer to me.

IP.08-3521. How can I trust you?

MB.05-032. What choice do you have if you do not wish to be added to the Sentinels' targeting ledger?

**0530 Hours, December 20, 2552 (Military Calendar)**

**Installation 00, "The Ark"**

**September Beach**

**ODST Spec. Ops, Phillip Aitken**

We hid inside the wreckage of a Covenant Loyalist Cruiser that had crashed on the beach shortly after the battle. Wreckage wasn't exactly the right word; it was mostly intact and one of the dropships in the hangar was, too. It was the only Phantom among many that looked flyable among the many broken dropships and Seraphs. Its name was, remarkably, in English: the _Journey to Salvation_. I had no idea why the name would be in English on a Loyalist ship, but there it was. We were hiding because if anyone found us not following orders at a time like this then we'd be in trouble. Inquisitive Paradigm had contacted us and asked to meet us somewhere. We told him to find us in the cruiser's hangar. Then Woran'Darhom found us.

The Sangheili commander had seen it go down and brought the _Magnanimous Splendor_ to check if they could salvage any parts for his ship or weapons for his soldiers. He was now wearing gold armor again, indicative of his newly restored Shipmaster status. Darhom strode into the room with confidence and sneered. Not knowing it was our ally, we'd taken cover behind the _Journey_, unwilling to take the chance of the newcomers being Brutes. "This is what has become of your work, eh, Prophets?"

We had a collective sigh of relief and came out from behind the ship. "We really need to stop meeting like this, Darhom," Cap said.

"Ah. Captain Shepard. It is good to see you." He said it mostly without emotion. "Why are you not fighting alongside your fellow humans? And where is the one known as McNally?" When we remained silent, he understood. "I am sorry for your loss."

Inquisitive Paradigm floated into the bay. "Finally! What I must tell you all is of great importance!" He became aware of Darhom. "What is _he_ doing here?" Even though they were helping the "Reclaimers" now, Paradigm probably still held some resentment toward any "meddlers."

"Hello, Oracle." Darhom apparently bore no such animosity.

Paradigm ignored him and hovered over to us. "Captain, I found another of my Creators' constructs. Its name is Mendicant Bias; it betrayed our leader, Didact, by allowing the Flood to reach the Ark not long before the last time the Array was fired. However, it says that it wants to atone. I agreed to bring you to it."

Cap raised an eyebrow. "Light Bulb, are you insane? This Mendicant Bias of yours double-crossed the Forerunners. They're dead, and we're supposedly their heirs. What makes you think it won't kill us?"

"I have no proof Mendicant Bias is trustworthy, but neither do I have proof it wishes to kill you."

"Gee, that makes _me_ feel so much better," grumbled Miller. "Why does it want us anyway?"

"I do not know."

Hoffman looked over at Captain Shepard. "Cap? It's your call."

"Hmmm." Captain Shepard closed his eyes and thought. "I don't like it. But we don't know where the strike force is now. I don't see what else we can do. Darhom, could you take us to this Mendicant Bias in the _Splendor_?"

Darhom snorted. "Hmph. I could. And as much I wish otherwise, I do not have any outstanding orders to be carried out."

"Then it's decided. Light Bulb. Take us to this traitor of yours."

**0530 Hours, December 20, 2552 (Military Calendar)**

**SLIPSPACE, EN ROUTE TO "THE ARK"**

**UNSC LADY FORTUNE (Bridge)**

**UNSC Navy, Tori Fero**

"All power to thrusters, we're in _Slipspace_, kids!" Commander Brown had been on the warpath ever since he'd decided to go through the Portal and rescue Phil and his squad. I was happy he was so dedicated, but…

"Commander – "

"Tyche, ETA!"

"0845, Commander, just like it was one hour ago." I had a feeling he'd continue to ask Tyche about the ETA until we were there.

"Commander."

Commander Brown turned toward me quickly and snapped, "_What_, Tori?!"

He used my first name. Since when does he call me by my first name? "Sir? Did you just say 'Tori'?"

"Yes, that's your name, right?" He continued to glower at me. But there was something different about it. It was like the time we thought Phil was dead.

"Sir, I've noticed a change in you. You're… different from when I first started service."

"Different good or different bad?"

"Good."

"Then _what the hell_ are you complaining about?"

I put up my hands defensively. "I'm not complaining, sir. It's just… lately, you've been…"

"Nicer?" he growled, gripping his command chair's armrests.

"Um." I wasn't sure what to say. I guess it was the word I was looking for.

"I'm not going to live forever, Tori. I'm trying to settle my score with the universe." Commander Brown sighed. "I'm not perfect. I've made mistakes. So leaving everything to you, rescuing the boys... it's something of an apology to the world, I guess."

"Are you going soft, Commander?"

"Watch yourself." He turned away. The conversation was over.

I smiled and returned to my post; not that we were going to receive any communications anyway. I thought about Phil, and how I had always tried to ignore his flirting when we were young. I'd always had feelings for him, but I never wanted to let on. Commander Brown talked about apology, and it made me think of how I might be apologizing to Phil for spurning him. There was no doubt about it now, though: we were in love. He asked me to marry him, and I said yes. I was his forever, and he was mine forever.

_Come back to me, Desperado_…


	20. 20 Family

**0700 Hours, April 14, 2540 (Military Calendar)**

**Reach, Epsilon Eridani System**

**The Pillsbury Residence**

**Michael Pillsbury**

"Time to get up, Mike!"

"Five more minutes, Mom…"

"You'll be late for school!"

"Three?"

"Arianna's here!"

I threw the covers off my body and got out of bed. _That_ was worth getting up for in the morning. I changed my pants and took off my shirt, grabbing another from the top of my dresser. I pulled it on as I walked out of my room. Just like Mom said, Arianna, my lovely girlfriend, was here. She whistled approvingly and smiled. I hugged her for a moment and kissed her on the lips. I went for another but she stopped me. "No, no, no. We need to get to school, you bad boy."

"You could've let me kiss you without reprimanding me and then we'd be on our way to school right now."

She raised one of her shoulders and cocked her head in a special way she had. "Well… I suppose one more before we leave couldn't hurt…" Our lips met for a glorious five seconds. Then Mom interrupted.

"Stop smooching and get your butts to class!"

"Mom –"

"_**GO!**_"

We did as we were told. As we walked hand-in-hand down the street, I heard a Pelican take off and stopped to watch it. Arianna kept walking and noticed I wasn't moving. "Mike? We're going to be late. Come on." I didn't hear her. I knew my face was sort of blank. "Mike!"

I looked at her. "Hm? Oh. Sorry, honey."

"You're not thinking about joining the UNSC again, are you?"

It was something I'd been thinking about doing for the past few years. I resumed walking with her. "You wouldn't be proud of me?"

Ari bit her lip. I knew what she _wanted_ to say. But for my sake, I knew she wouldn't say it. "Sure I would. I just… if your parents get the knock on the door, then where does that leave me?"

"Hey, listen, baby… I'm sorry. Okay?" I hugged her for a second. "I won't leave you. Alright?"

She looked up at my eyes. "Promise?"

"PILLSBURY!"

**0730 Hours, December 20, 2552 (Military Calendar)**

**Installation 00, "The Ark"**

**COVENANT SEPERATIST PHANTOM **_**MAGNANIMOUS SPLENDOR**_

**ODST Spec. Ops, Michael Pillsbury**

Diamond had woken me up. "Dude, could you at least _try_ not to fall asleep when the entirety of human civilization is depending on us?"

"Who's 'us'? The Chief's out fighting somewhere else and we're on the trail of a psychotic A.I." Inquisitive Paradigm was taking us to "Mendicant Bias," an A.I. who let the Flood get to the Ark and kill the Forerunners. It claimed to have changed.

"Uh-oh…" Aitken's voice echoed back from the cockpit. Darhom had allowed him to sit up in the co-pilot's seat. "Paradigm, tell me that's not where we're going."

"It is."

"Christ."

"Aitken," I said. "How bad is it?"

"Remember the valley on Karn?"

That wasn't good. "You're kidding."

"I wish."

Darhom pressed a few buttons. "They cannot get in. It is the Forerunner technology. It will not open for the Covenant."

"Well, at least we have that…" muttered Jacobs. "Jesus, is the whole 'shoot the Covenant' shtick wearing on anyone else?"

"Every damn day of my life I ask myself that question. So shut up," responded Cap.

"Yes, sir…"

"NOW," Cap shouted, "Whaddaya say we get some _revenge_?"

"OO-RAH!" we responded. I checked my SRS three times over and prepared for battle. Darhom set us down in one of the less swampy parts of the area, and we piled out of the _Splendor_. I turned on my air filters; the swamp air was too much. The mud _squish_ed beneath our boots, but nonetheless we tried to advance quietly. I'd always imagined swamps as dark, gloomy places, but the Ark's artificial sun was shining brightly down on us. We were lucky the Covies didn't see our Phantom, or at least couldn't do anything about it. My thoughts turned to Caitlin, recovering on the _Lady_. They were safe, back on Earth. I knew she loved me. When I went home, I'd see where that road took us.

Home? I'd just called Earth "home." Well, what else would I call it? Where else could I call "home?" Not Reach. Not the _Lady_. It could only be Earth. It was all we had left, as a species. And Caitlin was all _I_ had left.

"Hey, Mike, you alright?" Aitken had taken pace beside me.

"You… called me by my first name."

"Yeah. Me and you have been through a lot together, eh? Since that day on Karn?" He felt his chest, even though he knew he had his charm. I knew he was thinking about Tori. His wife. "I dunno, man. I just… I feel like you're the closest thing I've got to a brother. I never had one. And my mom… she… wasn't exactly happy when I joined the UNSC. My dad tried to send me some messages, but one day they just stopped. The squad became my family. And you're the closest. No one else knows about that night Tori and I spent together on shore leave. Cap told me to look out for you, on that first mission, and, well, I've done my best since. It's turned out alright so far, I think. Another thing, you lost your whole planet. Everyone you'd ever known. I guess what I'm saying is, I want _you_ to feel the same way. Like you're my brother."

I depolarized and smiled. "Yeah. That's exactly how I feel… Phil."

I was wrong. Caitlin wasn't the _only_ thing I had left. I had the squad.

I had my brothers.

**0730 Hours, December 20, 2552 (Military Calendar)**

**SLIPSPACE, EN ROUTE TO "THE ARK"**

**UNSC LADY FORTUNE (Medical Bay)**

**UNSC Navy, Tori Fero**

"I wish they would let me out of here." Searl was very pretty. I could tell why Pillsbury was so taken with her. She coughed. "Damn. That bastard got me good." I was sitting next to her bed in Medical, trying to pass the time. She was thankful for the company.

"It's over now. You'll be better by the time we find Pillsbury."

She smiled sadly and looked down at her clasped hands. "I appreciate you coming in. The medics won't stop asking me if I need anything. I feel fine. Where am I going to go if they let me out of my bed? We're in Slipspace, it's not like I can just take a Longsword and leave." She paused. "Does he love me?"

"You're worried about Pillsbury." It was only natural. "I'm worried about Phil. He… asked me to marry him."

"And you said?"

"Yes, of course."

"You must really be in love." Searl bit her lip. "Do you think… do you think Mike feels that way about me?"

I patted her hand. "Yes. I can tell. Pillsbury just hasn't been the same since Reach. He's afraid of getting close. He doesn't want to lose you. Phil said that's why they found you."

"I just love him so much. And I can't help but think…" Tears welled up in her eyes.

"Aw, sweetie, don't cry." I gave her the handkerchief my dad had given me for my eighteenth birthday. He wasn't exactly the best parent in the world, but he tried. After Mom died when I was fifteen he never really knew what to do. "All we can do is wait for them. And hope for the best." I wanted all of them to come back safe, but I knew it was unreasonable to think _none_ of them would die.

Searl nodded and smiled. "Thanks, Tori."

I smiled back. "Don't mention it."

Commander Brown burst through the doors clutching at his chest, almost doubled over. His eyes were shut tight and his face was contorted in pain. "Commander?" I hoped my voiced didn't sound too alarmed, because I was more scared at that moment then any other in my life. I stood up quickly and supported him with help from a medic, who called for one of the others. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm fine." He lurched, but we held him steady while we guided him to a bed. "Alright, that's a lie. My… my heart's not so good. I'm an old man. It… it happens. I just need to come in here every once in a while…" He grabbed at his chest again and sucked air through gritted teeth. "Every once in a while when it starts to hurt. They give me a, ohhhh, a shot, and I feel better. When we get back to Earth I'm not getting it looked at, I'm ready to die."

"Commander!"

He looked at me. "No, Tori. It's fine. Just… please. Hold my hand."

I grasped his hand tightly. I was afraid to let go. I was afraid that if I did, then he would die. And I wouldn't let that happen.

"Good girl…" he breathed, and he winced as they gave him the injection.

**0810 Hours, December 20, 2552 (Military Calendar)**

**Installation 00, "The Ark"**

**Swamp near facility containing Forerunner A.I. "Mendicant Bias"**

**ODST Spec. Ops, Louis Diamond**

Pillsbury's rifle _**CRACK**_ed from his post a few yards behind me and Behm. Miller was with Jacobs and Hoffman was with Aitken, but Cap was alone. Personally, I'd thought trying to take on what was easily a hundred fifty Covenant was a stupid and dangerous idea. I was surprised, though. It had probably been fifteen minutes since we took up position around these trees, and it looked like there were only forty or fifty left. Probably less, as I'd only been keeping track of our kills. Darhom and his three Elites were cutting a bloody swath through their lines, but I hadn't seen them for a bit. Enemy fire died down gradually over the course of a few seconds. What the hell was going on?

"Aw, crap…" Pillsbury obviously was looking at something bad. "Guys… they have Darhom and the Sangheili."

"Dammit!" Captain Shepard exclaimed. "We can't lose them."

"I can make a shot, but it's a Chieftain, so that means heavy shields…"

"What about Darhom's Energy Sword prosthetic?"

"It, uh, it looks like they ripped it off him."

Behm looked at me. "Gross."

"Okay," Cap said, "we're going to just charge them."

"It's worked well for us before," noted Hoffman.

"Yeah, but we can't guarantee it'll continue to work," countered Aitken.

"It's a risk we're taking, ODSTs! No discussion!" Cap reloaded. "Let's _move_!"

I brought my Assault Rifle around and Behm whipped out his Magnum, Panama Red. He suppressed while I took a "run and gun" approach, like most of the squad. Pillsbury had moved up a bit further and was shooting at the Chieftain. This distracted the Brute while Darhom took his non-prosthetic Energy Sword back from his captor. The Ape's shields were holding, so he took a moment to swat Darhom out of the way before driving Spiker rounds into the other Elites' heads. At this point, he jumped down with his Gravity Hammer at the ready. This wouldn't end well.

The next few moments occurred in slow motion. Miller and Jacobs were the closest, so the Chieftain made a leap at them. Pillsbury emptied a clip and missed every shot. Behm tried to get his rocket launcher ready in time. Cap yelled profanities while opening fire on the Brute, doing pitiful damage to his shields. Aitken lobbed an incendiary grenade he'd lifted from another dead Monkey, but the shields were absorbing most of the flames. Miller tried to go out like Sarge and pulled the pin on a frag without throwing it. Jacobs bowed his head and his faint mumblings over the COM sounded like prayer.

Then it was over.

The hammer's head struck the damp and muddy grass, releasing an outburst of seismic energy. Miller flew in one direction, Jacobs in another. They would have been shaken around in their armor like dice in a gambler's hand. If that hadn't killed them, then their falls certainly would have. Miller fell on his head, and it bent in an unnatural way; his neck had obviously snapped. Jacobs hit a tree, with his spine bending back further than a spine is meant to. Neither of them got back up. They didn't respond to signals on the COM, either. But we could all check their vitals. E. Miller's and K. Jacobs' readings had flatlined. The fire ate through the Chieftain's shields and was now adhering to his fur. Pillsbury put him out of his misery. At least we'd gotten payback.

The rest of the Covenant, a few scattered Grunts and Jackals, got the hell out of dodge before we decided to kill them for kicks.

Once more, we were all silent.

"How in the hemorrhaging _fuck_ does this happen?!" Cap took off his helmet and tossed it aside violently, dropping his guns. "Seven years without losing anyone. _Seven!_ And before that, it was six! _Six years without losing a soldier!_ And ODSTs, no less! We might be the toughest bastards in the UNSC, but we're also the most prone to dying! Did we survive just because Lady Fortune had the hots for us?! Because she whispered sweet nothings in our ears and got us hard?! _Well?!_ Anyone want to explain why we've just lost one-third of our squad, our _family_, in the span of _five hours?!_ Lady Fortune is a cold-hearted _bitch_ who makes you think she loves you before she leaves the morning after one last pity-fuck!" He clasped his head with a hand. "I'm _done_. When we win this war, I am fucking _done_ with the UNSC!"

We'd all taken off our helmets. Aitken instinctively felt his chest for the charm Tori gave him. Hoffman put his hand on Cap's shoulder, but he shrugged it away aggressively. Pillsbury rubbed his eyes. Behm took Jacobs' comms gear; he knew how to use it.

We took our comrades', our brothers', helmets with us and cremated their bodies. Cap marked them KIA. With Darhom's sword we carved another memorial into the side of the small Forerunner dome in the middle of the swamp. The gold-armored Shipmaster was a bit roughed up but otherwise fine. Paradigm got us in the door. I took one last look at the place where we lost Miller and Jacobs.

Something told me they wouldn't be the last of us to die here.


	21. 21 My Luck is Spent

**0855 Hours, December 20, 2552 (Military Calendar)**

**Installation 00, "The Ark"**

**Facility containing Forerunner A.I. "Mendicant Bias"**

**ODST Spec. Ops, Phillip Aitken**

Paradigm led us through the complex as quickly as it could, but I could tell it was just as lost as we were down here, even if it had maps and plans. We had no idea what would be waiting for us at its heart. I felt for the charm Tori made for me. We'd just lost Sarge, Miller, _and_ Jacobs. Any one of us could be next.

Why the hell did we come down here anyway? Because Paradigm said we should. It said we had to meet "Mendicant Bias," the psychotic Forerunner A.I. who killed its masters. Why did Bias want us? We'd find out eventually.

"Just a little further," announced Paradigm. I tensed.

"Light Bulb," Captain Shepard said. "Are you sure we can trust Mendicant Bias?"

Paradigm was silent for a time. "No," it finally said.

"Terrific," grumbled Behm.

We came to a large door that had the triangular shape the Forerunners were so fond of. "Go through here. Quickly." Paradigm shot a green laser at the door, and it opened for us, albeit slowly. Beyond it was an enormous room colored a deep blue by the light on the far wall. I realized that the source was an indentation containing a Monitor "eye" like Paradigm's. It seemed to gaze at us intently.

"WELCOME." A deep voice, obviously synthetic, filled the chamber. The door closed when we had all passed through, much more quickly than it had opened. "I AM MENDICANT BIAS."

Captain Shepard depolarized his visor. "Yeah? Great. Captain Michael Shepard, ODST Spec. Ops. What the hell do you want? There's a war going on, you know."

"I AM WELL AWARE OF THE SITUATION, RECLAIMER. I HAVE CALLED YOU ALL HERE TO DISCUSS A MATTER OF GREAT IMPORTANCE."

"And that would be?"

"THE FLOOD IS HERE."

"Jesus _Christ!_" yelled Diamond. "Are you freaking _kidding me?!_ We don't need this shit right now!"

"Hold your tongue, human," advised Darhom. "The intelligence may have control of an army of Sentinels."

"VERY OBSERVANT. FOR AN ALIEN."

Darhom clicked his mandibles and growled. "I will ignore that statement."

"I HAVE A DUTY TO PROTECT THE RECLAIMERS HERE. AND YOU WILL BE MY PENANCE TO MY CREATORS. YOU WILL BE MY EXAMPLE."

"Be your… wait. You're keeping us here, aren't you?! On the Ark!" I was furious. I wasn't going to sit in here while the Flood had their way with our comrades, not when we could go topside and help fight, and get extraction back to Earth. "No dice!"

"YOU HAVE NO CHOICE."

"To hell I don't!"

Cap reached out for me. "Aitken…"

"No, Cap! Dammit, I'm not going to rot in deep space when I have a wife to go home to!"

"THE FLOOD HAVE ARRIVED, AND YOUR 'SPARTAN-117' HAS BEGUN HIS JOURNEY TO LIGHT THE NEW RING. THE BEST COURSE OF ACTION IS TO KEEP YOU ALL HERE."

"Paradigm!" I turned to my pet intelligence in desperation. "Isn't there something you can do?"

"I… I cannot…"

"Paradigm. Please." What was going through its artificial brain right now? Was it feeling conflicted between duty and… friendship? Did I really see an A.I. as my friend?

"NO, INQUISITIVE PARADIGM. THIS IS THE WILL OF OUR CREATORS. WILL YOU BETRAY THEM AS I DID?"

"The teleportation grid," Paradigm said quietly. "The teleportation grid, of course!" The Monitor floated almost menacingly to Bias' eye. "I must sacrifice myself, but I can return them to the surface!"

"Sacrifice?" No, I wouldn't let someone else sacrifice themselves for me. Never again. Not since my original squad. Captain Parkes and Sergeant Bennett had bought time for the rest of us to escape to the Pelican. Me. Carnage. Kachigan. Demorest. Thurman. Walker. I wasn't going to let it happen again. Not even if it was a construct. "Paradigm!"

"I must do this, Phil." The light from Paradigm's eye intensified, and it shook with effort. "I must protect the Reclaimers! I cannot by keeping you here!"

"INQUISITIVE PARADIGM, STOP! YOU CANNOT HOPE TO WREST CONTROL OF THE ARK FROM ME!"

"Good-bye, Phil." Paradigm released the beam it was charging. The light was blinding.

Suddenly, we were outside the facility, somewhere else on the Ark. One moment we were standing in Mendicant Bias' chamber, the next, we were in an expanse of desert. I felt like I was going to throw up. But since I hadn't eaten anything in a while, I didn't. Paradigm somehow got us out by temporarily gaining control of the Ark. It overpowered Mendicant Bias, if only briefly. I knelt on the sand and lowered my head, still loosely holding on to my M90. How many more would we lose? I felt a hand on my shoulder. I looked up. It was Captain Shepard.

"Come on, Aitken. We need to go."

I stood up. We'd lost Sarge. Then we lost Miller and Jacobs. Now Paradigm? Who was next? Diamond? Captain Shepard? Pillsbury? Behm?

Me? It didn't matter. All I knew was we needed to get the hell off the Ark before anything else happened.

"Hey… what's that…?" Behm was looking up in the sky, toward the center of the Ark as far as I could tell.

I looked. "That… _that_ is another Halo… must be to replace the one that the Master Chief destroyed."

"Is that what Bias meant by the new ring?" Pillsbury sounded a bit like the scared rookie he used to be. Well, I couldn't blame him. "Um… wait… didn't Mendicant Bias say the Chief was firing that thing?"

It lit up like a Christmas tree. Parts of the incomplete construct began flaking away while blue light gathered in the center. Chief had begun the firing sequence. Great.

"Well, fuck," said Diamond with little emotion.

Darhom looked in a vague direction. "We may be able to hail another ship before the Parasite –"

He had to say it, didn't he?

**0906 Hours, December 20, 2552 (Military Calendar)**

**SLIPSPACE, EN ROUTE TO "THE ARK"**

**UNSC LADY FORTUNE (Bridge)**

**UNSC Navy, Tori Fero**

"We're coming in on the Ark, ma'am! But it's not going to be smooth!"

Why Commander Brown had left control of the bridge to me was anyone's guess. I was a communications officer, not a leader. He was still recovering from his heart attack. I guess he chose me because I was close, and he trusted me. "Good. Uh… keep going. We need to get through. Everyone brace yourselves, and… uh…"

"Brace yourselves" wasn't a good enough warning. We were all still thrown toward the bow of the _Lady Fortune_. The giant octopus-like structure loomed in the viewport. I didn't believe my eyes when I saw the center. The bridge was filled with shouts of "It's another Halo!" "It's charging!" "We're going to die!"

"Pipe down! All of you!" Commander Brown walked onto the bridge almost uncertainly. He was a bit paler than he was before his brush with death. "Tori. Get on the comm and contact Jacobs. We're pulling your husband out." He sat down in his command chair while I rushed to my post. "Tyche! Full speed ahead! Get a Pelican ready! As soon as Tori finds the squad, trace its position!"

I typed in the sequence for Jacobs' comm equipment. The ship found it after a few seconds. I talked into the microphone. "Jacobs? Jacobs, it's Tori! Are you all still alive?"

"Jacobs is a bit busy right now, being dead and all," Behm grumbled. "But I'm here. Then again, I'm pretty busy, too. You know, alien parasite, death on all sides, same old, same old. Any chance of you guys sending help?" I smiled despite myself.

Tyche said, "Commander, I have their position!"

"Then get a Pelican down there and extract them!"

"Yes, sir!"

"Behm, try to stay where you are, alright? We're coming." I took a deep breath and nervously pushed back my hair.

"No problem, seeing as how we've got nothing but Flood as far as the eye can – JESUS CHRIST! They have Cap! THEY HAVE CAP!"

_No!_

**0910 Hours, December 20, 2552 (Military Calendar)**

**Installation 00, "The Ark"**

**Desert on the surface of the Ark**

**ODST Spec. Ops, Louis Diamond**

We all kept our helmets on; we wouldn't let the Flood take us. My finger never left the trigger of my Assault Rifle, spraying the disgusting hordes with bullets. MY BR was spent. Everyone else was probably running low on ammo, too. We formed a close group in the middle, keeping the Flood at bay, but they just kept coming. We could still make it, though. The _Lady _was in-system, and Commander Brown would get us out. Then we would go home. Not that I had any reason to go back to Earth. There was nothing for me there. My family severed all ties with me when I got put in jail for holding up a liquor store. When I got out, I didn't have many options besides the UNSC. And now I'm here.

Moral of the story? Don't try to rob a liquor store.

One of the fleshy bastards we thought we'd killed grabbed onto Captain Shepard's leg. He swore and kicked at it, but he fell over, towards the rest of the Flood. One of them raked its claws across his back, shearing right through the armor. Dammit! Pillsbury shot the offender a few times with his Magnums, but then the unthinkable happened: a Flood Infection Form dug into his wound.

"GAAAAHHHH!" Cap tried to get up, but then he keeled over and started convulsing. The Infection Form flattened and the disgusting color of the Flood began to spread over Cap's armor. In some places the plates were straining.

"JESUS CHRST!" yelled Behm. "They have Cap! THEY HAVE CAP!"

Darhom rolled in the sand to Captain Shepard's body. It had grown those scary-looking claws that most Combat Forms had, the exact same kind that made him this way. I couldn't think. Flood-Cap impaled Darhom's stomach with its claws. The Sangheili was still fighting, though. I saw Darhom place his unignited Energy Sword beneath Cap's chin and heard him say, "This is not the end I would have had for you, Shepard," before the blade crackled to life and killed the parasite controlling our captain's body. Both fell to the ground, limp and lifeless.

I wasn't sure what everyone else was thinking. But for me, there would be time to mourn them later. It seemed it was that way for everyone else, too.

I heard the engines of a Pelican. Thank God. We were saved! "This is Eros four-two, are you guys ready to head home?" The pilot's voice was met with an enthusiastic "OOH-RAH" from the five of us. "Lemme clear a path! Keep your heads down!"

We went prone, not daring to dive. We still had to shoot. The Pelican swung around to reveal a Marine on a LAAG. He fired, ripping the Flood apart. No matter how disgusting it was, we were _alive_. We were going to make it. We stood up and raced for the dropship. The Marine helped Pillsbury up first, followed by Behm and Hoffman. Aitken and I were depolarized. We made brief eye contact. We'd made it. "Come on," said the Marine. "We don't have all – _Holy shit! Behind you!_"

Ah, Christ. A Flood Tank Form. We didn't need this. The pilot pulled up, panicked. The Marine fell out of the Pelican, as did the LAAG, right on top of him. The poor soldier was skewered on the barrel. Aitken ran over to it, trying to get it loose from the sand. It didn't budge. The Tank was getting closer with every second. Eighty feet. Seventy. I fired my Assault Rifle. Five bullets burst out of the gun before I heard a disappointed click. I looked at Aitken again. "I'm spent."

"Same here. But I think I have an idea. Do you have any incendiaries? Maybe a plasma grenade?"

I saw where he was going with this. A plasma grenade would just turn the Tank into a charging bomb, but we didn't have time to deliberate. I lobbed one I'd picked up on September Beach, figuring it would come in handy. It stuck onto the Tank and detonated after a few seconds. It clearly felt pain, but it showed no signs of stopping. If anything, it was even more pissed off. The Pelican had moved and dropped some altitude. We booked it with the Tank in pursuit. We closed the distance between us and sweet freedom. Unfortunately, our new friend was closing distance as well. We were only a few yards from the Pelican, but we weren't going to make it.

_Unless_…

"Don't hate me for this, Aitken." Before he could say anything, I got behind him and shoved him the rest of the way. He hit the loading ramp but recovered quickly and scrambled up with everyone else's help. The pilot clearly hesitated about leaving me behind. The Tank raised its arms above its head when it was in front of me and swatted me like a fly. My tunnel vision was blurred and I had a splitting headache. I could hardly breathe. My body hurt all over. I was going to die. But that didn't bother me. My squad got out. My brothers were going home.

Suddenly, I felt a strong gust of wind sweep over me. The Tank made an almost surprised sound when the Pelican plowed into it and turned it into gibbets. Aitken hopped out of the back and kneeled over me. "You crazy bastard," he said, slightly mocking but also concerned. "Come on. We're getting the hell out of here."

I brought myself to say it. "No." Talking hurt.

"What? Diamond, I'm carrying you onto the Pelican. Hoffman will patch you up until we get to the _Lady_."

"I'm a goner, Aitken. My luck is spent. The dead man's hand wasn't coincidence, Aitken. It was an omen. Leave. And hurry, before another Tank comes."

"Bullshit! We're getting you off!" He picked me up as smoothly as he could manage, but that only made me hurt worse. I groaned. "It's gonna be alright, man. It's gonna be alright."

He placed me on the floor of the Pelican and took my helmet off. The door closed and we lifted into the sky. Everyone crowded around me. I couldn't see their faces. They were only blurred shapes. "We did it, didn't we," I managed. "We won." One of the shapes nodded. Aitken, by the sound of his voice, but all I could make out was "yes." My hearing was going. Most of my sight was consumed by darkness.

With my last breath, I sighed, "Hot damn."


	22. 22 We're Free

**0930 Hours, December 20, 2552 (Military Calendar)**

**Deep Space, Over Installation 00, "The Ark"**

**UNSC LADY FORTUNE (Hangar)**

**ODST Spec. Ops, Phil Aitken**

Behm was first out of the Pelican, carrying Diamond's body. Tori was waiting for me at the entrance to the rest of the ship. Tears were in her eyes. She fell into my body and clung to me like a scared little girl clings to her dad. She started sobbing. "I'm so glad you're alive." I held her tightly and stroked her hair. "Shh. It's okay, Angel. I'm here. I'm safe. I've got you." Tears began to well up in my own eyes. I let them fall. It didn't matter anymore. I didn't have to be a tough guy. I was with my wife and my brothers. They were kind enough to let us have a minute. We both knew that neither of us would let go until the other did, so I said, "Come on. Let's go." Our lips met for a moment that seemed to stretch on forever.

With my arm around her shoulders the five of us went to the infirmary. Searl got out of her bed when she saw Pillsbury and kissed him passionately. She still wasn't quite used to walking, so Pillsbury supported her. Behm left Diamond with the medics, even though we all knew there was nothing they could do. When we got to the bridge, we received a standing ovation. Commander Brown looked a little green around the gills. What happened to him?

"Great to have you back, boys." He shook our hands in turn. "Good work. What say we head home?"

"Amen," said Hoffman. The rest of us expressed our agreement enthusiastically.

"Plot a solution, Tyche. Hang on to your hats, kids."

A transmission came through. I recognized the voice as belonging to Tyrone G-083. I could hardly believe it. Team Rapier was still alive. Well, I was glad. I liked those kids. "Any UNSC forces in the area, this is Team Rapier! Our engines are shot to hell and we are in need of immediate assistance! Any UNSC forces in the area, please respond, over!"

Commander Brown was puzzled. "Who…?"

"It's alright, Commander," I reassured. "We know those guys."

"This is Commander Brown of the _Lady Fortune_; we're coming up on your tail. We're opening our port-side lateral airlock, you have permission to dock."

"You're a godsend, Commander," was the reply.

"Anyone want to give them a hero's welcome?" asked Commander Brown. When we answered in the affirmative, he said, "Alright. Dismissed."

We headed back to the hangar. They were landing when we entered. The _Lady_ shook as we entered Slipspace. Perfect. We were home free now. After about a minute three SPARTAN-IIIs in ODST armor dropped from the anti-grav lift. I waved at them and smiled, but then I realized that Sam and Tyrone were carrying Alex's limp form. They all looked like they'd been through hell, especially Alex. Their armor was dinged and dented, and Alex looked hurt all over. "Medic!" shouted Tyrone. "We need a medic!"

"Oh, shit," said Behm as Hoffman vaulted over the railing to help them. I followed suit.

"Aitken, help Tyrone get Alex to the infirmary. Sam, are you okay? Is the baby safe?"

Hoffman must have realized too late that he shouldn't have said the "b" word in front of Tyrone. "Aww, _haylllllllll_ no," groaned the leader of Team Rapier. "Seriously, Sam?"

Sam brushed away a lock of her red hair and placed a hand on her abdomen, wincing from the plasma burn on her shoulder. "Can we talk about this later, Ty, please?"

Tyrone shook his head. "Yeah, fine. Aitken, right? Get his legs, but be gentle. I think most of his bones are broken."

It was a slow process getting Alex to the medics, but we finally did. They looked at him in horror. Hoffman took him to the back to personally supervise his treatment. They took care of Sam's burn and the scrapes Tyrone picked up in no time. I was reassured those two would be fine, and I held out hope for Alex. The kid in Sam's belly would need its dad. I held Tori close as we watched the medics run tests to ensure that the baby was safe. We left the infirmary together. We walked in silence for a bit. I didn't recognize where we were going until we were almost there. We were going to my quarters. We stopped outside my door.

"Tori…"

"It's okay, Phil. I want to."

"I… really, we… don't have to."

Tori bit her lip and looked at her feet. "We both want it."

"Yeah. Yeah, we do."

I typed in my code and carried her into my quarters. Then I locked the door.

Nothing in my life had ever felt so good.

**1020 Hours, December 20, 2552 (Military Calendar)**

**Slipspace, en route to Earth, Sol System**

**UNSC LADY FORTUNE (Mess Hall)**

**ODST Spec. Ops, Connor Behm**

I brooded. Aitken was probably off having sex with Tori, and for all I knew Pillsbury was doing the same with Searl, but I doubted it. The little guy was still a bit of a prude. But I wasn't angry that they both had someone. Not at all. I wanted them to be happy. What pissed me off was that we had landed on September Beach with a squad of nine plus the Light Bulb. Now Inquisitive Paradigm was gone. Cap and Sarge were gone. Miller was gone, Jacobs was gone, and Diamond was gone, too. They hadn't died in vain, I supposed, but survivor's guilt was killing me. I wanted to be alone.

Commander Brown walked into the mess. I began to stand up, but he shook his head. "At ease, Behm. And you have full permission to speak freely. Or not at all, if you want." He sat across from me at the table. "Where's everyone else?"

"Aitken and Tori are most likely having sex in his quarters. Pillsbury and Searl is anyone's guess, but I don't think they're consummating their relationship. Hoffman's still in the infirmary."

"I see." The old Commander glanced down at his clasped hands, and then looked back up at me. "Something on your mind, soldier?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess." I put my hands on my head. "It's just… I dunno, Commander. We lost nearly everyone down there. Cap, Sarge, Miller, Jacobs, Diamond, even that Elite. And I don't know how long Alex is going to last. He's bad, Commander. He's an absolute wreck. If he dies… Sam won't be able to live with herself. She'll have to raise the kid alone, maybe with Tyrone's help, but they're just kids, Commander. _Kids!_ No more than seventeen years old! And the good old UNSC kidnapped them, gave them the super-soldier treatment, and sent them off to war, and now one of them is _pregnant_ and who knows how many are _dead_!" I exhaled through my nose. "Tell me there's justice in the universe, Commander. Go on."

Commander Brown and I looked each other in the eye. "I'm sorry," he said at last. "I'm not going to start lying to you boys."

"Well. At least there's that, yeah?"

"Yeah. I suppose so." I bit my lip. "Are you going to resign, Commander?"

"Are you nuts? Of course I am. Without a war to fight, what the hell're we gonna do?"

I couldn't help but laugh. "Amen, Commander. Amen."

**1430 Hours, December 20, 2552 (Military Calendar)**

**Earth, Sol System**

**Orbital Defense Platform **_**Philadelphia**_

**UNSC Navy, Commander Zachary Brown**

Say what you will about ONI, but they worked fast. That is hard fact. Most of the crew of the _Lady Fortune_ had been debriefed upon our arrival twenty minutes ago, save me, Tori, the ODSTs, Pillsbury's girl, and those SPARTAN-III kids. Alex was still being tended to; I heard they took him to Sydney. The spook bit his computer's stylus as he read the report I wrote on our way back here from the Ark. He sighed and put it down.

"You're telling me," he began slowly, "that _you_," indicating me, "violated a direct order to remain on Earth, to save _them_," indicating the squad, "even though for all you knew they would get extracted anyway. It was just a fluke that they shirked their duties in favor of following a Forerunner A.I. to the construct that killed them. And _you_," indicating Searl, "were sweet on the shorty over there, so he went looking for you in Voi. You were injured and would have become a casualty if not for their timely arrival. And _you_." He indicated Sam and Tyrone with disgust. "_You_ were picked up by this fine Commander, who was coincidentally just leaving the Ark when you got off. Between New Mombasa and the Ark, you got pregnant, SPARTAN…" He checked his computer screen for reference. "SPARTAN-G113. The father is SPARTAN G–"

I couldn't take it. I stood up and reached across the desk to grab the spook by his collar. I looked into his bespectacled eyes. I saw genuine fear. I smiled inwardly. "'SPARTAN-G113' has a _name_, you asshole. Her name is _Sam_. I've known her for 5 hours and even _I_ have the respect to call her by that name. The father of her child is named _Alex_, you son of a bitch, and this is _Tyrone_, _leader_ of SPARTAN-III Team Rapier. Do you understand me? We all have names. Got me, _spook_?" I spat the last word.

He just nodded bewilderedly. I let go of him and took my seat. "The UNSC Navy and Marine Corps have given me authorization to –"

"We quit." Aitken wasn't one to mince words.

The spook blinked. "… What?"

"You heard him," I said. "We resign from the UNSC."

"But… but you were going to receive a medal, Commander! So were the ODSTs, and SPARTANs."

Behm snorted. "Like we give two shits. We're finished."

"But… but you can't just…"

"Yes." I looked him square in the eye again. "Yes, we can. We just did. Now take these kids wherever they want to go."

"But…"

"Let's go, everyone."

As I left, Tyrone said, "Uh, you don't have to mark us down as leaving. We'll handle that when we get to Sydney to see Alex."

Alex. Yeah. That kid was still in the hospital…

"So what now, Brown?" Aitken dropped the "Commander" now that we'd all resigned.

"What now?" I grinned. "Boys, we're free. _That's_ 'what now.'"


	23. 23 Requiem

**1700 Hours, December 20, 2552 (Military Calendar)**

**Palmyra, New Jersey**

**The Aitken Residence**

**Former ODST Spec. Ops, Phil Aitken**

"Ma? Dad?" I walked in the door of my childhood home, holding Tori's hand. I wasn't even sure if my folks still lived here. Lucky for Tori and I, the door was unlocked. When we left the _Lady Fortune_, I left my armor behind. I wouldn't need it any more. I had my ODST tattoo on my right arm, and I wouldn't be going back to the UNSC. A familiar face walked in from the kitchen. My mother, Betty Aitken, looked much older then I'd remembered. Well, I hadn't seen her since I joined the UNSC in '34. Eighteen years. It was a long time to go without seeing your mother. She was shocked. She walked up to me, slowly, and slapped me. It barely hurt, either physically or emotionally. I'd been through worse. Tori squeezed my hand but said nothing.

"How dare you. You don't call, you don't stop in, you don't send any messages, and then you have the _audacity _to come back here?"

I shook my head and rolled my eyes. I was a teenager again. "Y'know, Ma, if _you_ would've had the decency to keep in contact with _me_, then _maybe_ I would've come here on the _one_ shore leave we got. We were fighting a losing war with a coalition of alien races bent on the destruction of the _entire fucking galaxy_, and you want to know why I couldn't stop in? The day I left for Camp Eisenhower, you didn't even see me off. And it's been eighteen years since then, Ma. You never wanted me to be a Marine, but I did it. And I told you I was going to be the best. I told you I was going to be an ODST. Well, look at this." I rolled up my sleeve to show her the flaming skull tattooed there. "I'm waiting here, with my _wife_, until Dad comes back from work. Then we'll all go out for cheesesteaks. Is that okay by you, Mom? I have been through hell and back, so _please_ don't give me any shit." I walked past her and sat down with Tori on the couch.

Mom huffed. "When did this happen?"

"When did what happen?"

"_Tori Fero_ becoming your wife."

"I asked her to marry me the morning of the worst day of my life. Besides, any numbskull knew that she was hiding affection behind her hard glares and cold shoulders." I said it to get a rise out of Mom and to entertain Tori. We all knew that I'd had no idea she had feelings for me when we were growing up. She smiled and kissed me on the cheek.

"I love you."

"I love you more."

The room was silent. I looked back at Mom, keeping my face expressionless. I said, "Come on, stop acting like you aren't ecstatic that I'm alive." I got up and went over to her. She was conflicted. I opened my arms to show her that I forgave her, and she started crying and hugged me.

"You always know what to say. You're so much like your uncle."

My Uncle Walt died at Harvest. He was part of why I joined the UNSC in the first place. I smiled. "I know, Ma. I know."

**1745 Hours, December 20, 2552 (Military Calendar)**

**London, England**

**Caitlin Searl's flat**

**Former ODST Spec. Ops, Michael Pillsbury**

I tried to catch my breath. I was sprawled on the floor, and Caitlin was holding me. "That was… _that_ was… _wow_."

"Mm." She nuzzled closer.

"Was that your first time, too?"

"Yes."

I blinked, staring at the ceiling. "When can we do it again?"

Caitlin giggled. "Easy there, cowboy. Shouldn't you recover first?"

"Phil's the cowboy."

"'Desperado,' right…"

I hoped I'd see Phil again. But for now, I was with Caitlin. And I was tired. I realized I hadn't gotten any good sleep since joining the UNSC. "Sweetie… I think… I think I'm going to sleep."

"Sounds like a plan, love." I knew she was drifting off, too. No one would bother us between now and… Jesus, when would we wake up? After being on the Military Calendar for so long, I'd forgotten what it was like to have a normal sleep pattern. I'd have to adjust to this time zone, get used to the people…

That could wait. I fell into the blissful reprieve of sleep, and I was glad to have it.

**1800 Hours, December 20, 2552 (Military Calendar)**

**New York, New York**

**The Hoffman Residence**

**Former ODST Spec. Ops, Dillon Hoffman**

"So what will you do now?"

"I don't know. And stop asking me."

I'd decided I should stay with my brother David for a while. God knows I didn't have many other options. I'd find something, though. Maybe I'd go and get a job at a hospital. I wasn't actually a doctor, of course, but they had to have something for my years of battlefield medicine experience. I hadn't actually seen Dave in almost twenty-five years; not since he was still in high school, so it was good to talk again. He really didn't think much of me after I joined up, so I wasn't sure how he'd react to me asking for help. He was allowing me to stay, though, so he probably didn't hate me too much. His fourteen-year-old son walked in the door, home from a day out with his friends. That kid was my nephew.

"Dillon." Dave said my name but was addressing the boy. "Meet your uncle."

Wonders never cease.

**1900 Hours, December 20, 2552 (Military Calendar)**

**Ocean City, New Jersey**

**Beach**

**Former ODST Spec. Ops, Connor Behm**

"If you ever want to be alone, Sarge, go to a beach at night during winter. Too damn cold for anyone to want to be here." I took a drag on my cigarette. It was either live out a boring life and die in my sleep or go out fighting some deadly disease. I preferred the latter, so hey, it would be at least a pack a day for me. Maybe two. "Everyone's doing great. I'm alive, obviously. I don't know if you can hear me, but… what the hell. I'm lonely. I have no one to come home to. Figured there was a chance you'd hear me if I went to a beach. Aitken's still alive. So are Pillsbury and Hoffman." Another drag. I let the smoke fill my lungs. It felt weird. Well, I'd get used to it. "Cap didn't make it. Aitken's pet saved us, actually. Sacrificed itself. Darhom; he's gone, too. Jacobs and Miller. Diamond died just as we left. A Tank Form got him, the poor schmuck." I looked around, considering what I was about to do next. Yeah, I guessed I could understand what was so appealing about a Viking funeral.

I tossed the butt into the sand. "You want some company, Sarge?"

The only answer was the faint wind and the tide breaking on the shoreline.

"Well, I'm not ready to die yet, you old bastard."

I gave the moon one of my trademark wolfish grins before turning back to the mainland. I laughed until I reached the edge of the sand. I took a look back.

"Rest in peace, everybody."

**1900 Hours, March 3, 2553 (Military Calendar) \ (Eight Weeks Later)**

**Earth, Sol System**

**Hillside Memorial Ceremony, Ruins of Voi**

**Former ODST Spec. Ops, Phil Aitken**

I couldn't think of any Marine who would miss this.

True, we resigned, but hell, we fought in the battle. We lost brothers. What kind of soldiers would we be if we didn't respect the fallen? I wore my fatigues; I wasn't going to wear my armor, but I wasn't going to show up in casual clothing, either. Mike, Hoffman, Behm and I had agreed to meet on the hill where we first saw the Flood. Then we made our way to the memorial. As we walked, I found myself wishing Brown were here.

Our old Commander had died just days after we returned. We inherited everything he owned. It wasn't much… some trinkets and an apartment in New York. But his bank account was huge. It had lain dormant all his years of service, with no one to use it. And it was _a lot_ of bread. It was a drop in the bucket for Tori and I to get a place in Philly. I bought an empty building downtown and it was still being renovated into a bar. I got my liquor license last week; I'd have the joint up and running by the twentieth of this month, and I already had a name picked out: Tyche's Pride.

A wing of a Pelican dropship stood at the top of the hill, just beyond a platform with a few steps. I saw photos of plenty of Marines who hadn't made it back from the Ark. I'd found an old one of the nine of us and circled the faces of Cap, Sarge, Jacobs, Miller, and Diamond. I placed it with the rest and saw the engraving on the Pelican's wing: _In Memory of Those Fallen in the Defense of Earth and Her Colonies. –March 3, 2553_. Behm, Mike, and Hoffman came up with me. Searl and Tori let us have our moment. I kneeled on one knee as I lay the picture down. How many others had died at the Ark? At September Beach alone? I stood up and walked back down the hill through the crowd of Marines and naval personnel. We made sure our ODST tattoos showed. It wasn't meant to be a sign of arrogance, and no one interpreted it that way; they nodded at us respectfully, possibly detecting the loss we felt. Tori held me close when we reached the girls.

Fleet Admiral Terrence Hood climbed the platform, and the sun was setting behind the monument, giving everything a beautiful red-orange glow. He looked at every picture at the foot of the wing, each one that had been taped to it. Then he turned around and spoke, removing his hat.

"For us, the storm has passed... the war is over. But let us never forget those who journeyed into the howling dark and did not return…" With this, he made a gesture to the photos. "… For their decision required courage beyond measure; sacrifice, and unshakable conviction that their fight... _our_ fight, was elsewhere. As we start to rebuild, this hillside will remain barren, a memorial to heroes fallen. They ennobled all of us, and they shall not be forgotten." Placing his cap back on his head, he nodded to the gunnery sergeant in charge of the 21-gun salute before stepping down.

"Pre_sent_ arms!" Every person in the crowd stood at attention and saluted at the same time. Seven Marines lined up near the gunny turned to the right and pointed their Battle Rifles at a 45-degree angle. They fired a shot in unison. Pause. Another shot. Another pause. The final shot. One last pause.

During the salute, I thought about the Master Chief – SPARTAN John-117. He'd been listed as "MIA" after only half of the _Forward Unto Dawn_ made it back to Earth, with the Arbiter as its only passenger. I knew he was dead. They'd listed SPARTANs as "MIA" since the beginning of the war to keep morale up.

God rest the man's soul. He saved us all.

And it was done. Admiral Hood relaxed his salute, and the rest of the crowd followed.

"Well," began Behm. "What now?"

Hoffman sucked air through his teeth. "That's the question, isn't it?"

Mike turned to Searl. "Is it back to England for us?"

"I dunno, love. I think I could get used to America. I mean, that's where all your friends live, isn't it?"

Mike smiled and kissed her. "I love you."

Those two would do just fine. They could stay with us for a bit if they had to. As the six of us began to leave, someone said, "Doc? Doc Hoffman?"

We turned to its source. I was pleasantly surprised to find the survivors of Team Rapier jogging toward us. "Ah, Sam. How are you today?" Hoffman extended his hand to the girl. She almost tackled him when she threw her arms around him.

"Thank you for saving Alex." She let go and brushed a lock of her hair back, taking Alex's hand. "Our baby needs its dad."

Hoffman smiled. "Well, when he left my care, he was brain dead. But you're welcome."

"What's next for you three then?" I had an arm around Tori. "Settle down and raise the kid? Mommy, Daddy, and Uncle Ty?"

Tyrone punched Alex in the arm, playfully. "They _wish_. I'm headin' somewhere warm. With nothing to shoot or get shot at by, I deserve a vacation, yeah?"

"We actually haven't figured that out yet." Alex glanced at the memorial. "But we will."

He and I made eye contact, albeit briefly. However, we made a connection. I couldn't explain it. It was as if all our struggles had led to this point, when SPARTAN Alex-G004 and Phil Aitken looked each other in the eye and knew the other was thinking, "I know what you've been through." It was as though some unseen force had made this happen. I felt for my charm, my lucky charm that had gotten me through the war. It was there, just like it always was.

I smirked. "Take care of yourselves, super soldiers." I turned around and tossed them a casual salute as I walked away. Everyone else followed.

Every little thing was going to be all right. We'd made it. We were home. And we would never forget the sacrifices of not just our squad, but of the rest of the men and women of the Navy and the Marine Corps.

I hugged Tori as we walked back to the Pelican taking us home. "Phil?"

"Yeah, Angel?"

"Sam's not the only one who's pregnant."

I stopped and turned toward her. I was speechless. A kid? Man. I could hardly take care of myself. That was my first thought. My next thought was just pure and utter joy. I laughed and swept Tori off her feet, carrying her the rest of the way to the dropship. When we got inside, I kissed her.

"Hey, Desperado, PDA regulations!" Behm was climbing into the back.

"Fuck off, Pyro."

We smiled at each other.

Yeah. Everything was going to be great from now on.


	24. Epilogue

**0400 Hours, August 4, 2560 (Military Calendar) \ (Seven Years Later)**

**Earth, Sol System**

**Tyche's Pride Bar, Philadelphia (After Hours)**

**Former ODST Spec. Ops, Phil Aitken**

Behm crushed the cigarette into his ash tray. Hoffman took a swig of his drink. Mike was cleaning down the bar and I was sweeping up. Opening this bar was the best idea I'd ever had, besides maybe growing a beard. I lived upstairs with Tori and my two boys, and the rest of the guys worked for me. Well, I liked to think of it as "with" rather than "for," even though I was the sole owner of Tyche's Pride. There was a silence that wasn't quite silence, the only sound the bristles of the broom on the floor.

"You ever miss the old days?" Behm finally asked.

"You ask about every other week, man," replied Mike. "And I still sure as hell don't."

Hoffman took another swig. "Not really."

I answered flatly, "No."

"Me, neither," sighed Behm.

We went back to the silence. The door to my apartment opened noisily. I heard the sound of small feet coming down the steps. "Boys, go back to bed," I commanded sternly without looking up from the floor. My twin sons had sneaked out of bed without Tori's knowledge again. I could tell that this time they wouldn't go. Typical six-year-olds.

"But Dad –"

A little tough love would go a long way. "You know it's past your bed time. March." The guys stayed out of it when I had to lay down the law with the boys.

"Dad –"

They forced my hand. "Zachary Michael and Walter Louis Aitken, you both get back upstairs now before I have to wake up your mother." I pointed toward the steps firmly and gave them my "dad glare."

Zach was bold enough to venture. "But we want to know what you did in the war."

I paused. I didn't expect them to know about the Human-Covenant War yet. Neither did any of my brothers. Zach and Walt apparently hadn't foreseen this effect, either.

"How do you two know about that?"

"Mom told us," Walt said.

I sighed. "Boys… come here." I sat in a booth and patted my knees. They both clambered up into my lap. They were getting a bit big, but I didn't care. I thought about what I should tell them about the scariest years of my life. They were way too young to hear everything about our experiences as ODSTs. So I started by saying as much. "You two still need to be a bit older to know everything. But… I can tell you this." I paused and took a deep breath. "Zach, you were named after two of the greatest men I've ever known. And Walt, you have your name because of the man who made me become a soldier and the man who I owe more than I can ever repay. Just remember that, okay, guys? Without these men, then I wouldn't be sitting here right now, talking to you two." I let them try to wrap their heads around it. Behm, Hoffman, and Mike just watched in silence. The twins looked like they understood.

"I get it, Dad."

"Me, too."

"Good." I gently nudged them to get them to move; they stood and let me get up. "Now get to sleep! School starts in a few weeks!"

They ran back upstairs to their room, saying "good night" to Uncle Connor, Uncle Dillon, and Uncle Mike. I watched them go.

"You handled that well, Desperado," noted Behm. "Still say you don't miss the old days?"

"What? You believe me when I say I don't miss being an ODST?" I picked up the broom again. I thought about everything that had led here. My Uncle Walt's death at Harvest. My days at Camp Eisenhower. My first squad. My first missions on the _Lady Fortune_. Meeting Pillsbury. Darhom and Inquisitive Paradigm. Mombasa. Marrying Tori. The Ark. And through it all, I'd survived. I'd survived through sheer dumb luck. It was only to be expected, though, right? I was from the _Lady Fortune_. I smirked.

"Are you kidding? Those were the best fuckin' days of my life."

* * *

Well, everyone, it's been a trip. Thanks for reading The Lady Fortune's ODSTs. This is the first major writing project that I've had enough interest in to finish. I want to thank you for sticking with Aitken, Pillsbury, and the gang for the whole ride. I hope you had as much fun reading it as I did writing it. So once again, thank you. And if you haven't yet, read "The Spartans of Gamma Company" on this site. Without that story and my good friend TheAmateur, not one chapter of "The Lady Fortune's ODSTs" would have been written.

See you on the Dark Side of the Moon.

~Phil Aitken


End file.
